Darko
by BanishedOne
Summary: Long ago, the Uchiha's bloodline trait ran too pure and powerful for human bodies to handle. Many members of the clan went completely insane and eventually died by their own hand. That is what is happening to Itachi now. ItaSasu
1. Chapter 1

"...nngg..."

The strained sound of a pained moan was the only thing that escaped the bruised throat of the young shinobi as he felt a foot harshly push against his side, and roll him off his belly and onto his back. He tried to squirm away from the rough contact, because he could feel the grotesque movement of his shattered ribs loosely pressing into his distressed innards. It was painful, but just the disgusting, and disturbing sensation was what the young boy wished to escape more than anything.

He wasn't afraid- He was more confused now. He fidgeted away as he felt a hand clasp him roughly by his jaw, and yank his frail-looking face from one side to the other, then back, examining, measuring his worth. What was he? A stock-animal? An item?

He was glad he couldn't see this, he was glad he could feel himself slipping into a dark, numb abyss. He could escape from who ever this creature was that had just beaten him without a reason or care. He could escape from the feeling of blood and sweat all singed slightly into his cheek.

"...You're the one..."

The stranger spoke up, his voice dark, and ominous, and despite everything, the young boy stared up, slipping dangerously close to death, and yet he was still attentive- Coal black eyes flickered in dying sight, gazing in the direction of the man that hovered above, yet the boy's sight had already blacked completely out. It was all for show now.

The ruthless man laughed maniacally as he traced one of the dark lines down the young Uchiha's face with a tender fingertip. "Yes.. You are the one.. The one I need.. And in time, you'll be mine.."

A possession? Was that what Itachi was? He would have felt quite miffed about this if he could manage to feel any emotion while he was trying to concentrate on breathing- It was so hard, with every little inhale he could feel his broken bones shifting, rocking, jerking out of place, then falling loosely back in with each exhale. He could taste the blood settling in the back of his throat, collecting so much that it was bound to choke him if he allowed it to trickle down much longer- He had to move; He could now, because he could hear his assailant glancing upward, and dropping his possessive front due to movement approaching, and the predator then decided to abandon his prey and take his leave- For now.

Itachi rolled back onto his belly with the last little bit of his strength, sputtering, and coughing up blood, practically convulsing as his forehead finally met the soft grassy surface that had embraced the rest of his battered form.

Still... He could hear something- A flutter of feathers, a pulse, the beat of wings, a raspy cawing- A crow. The eight year old boy smiled to himself as his heavy eyelids finally allowed themselves to rest. The black bird perched above him was here for the soul that would soon exit his dying body, and he would not leave until he had that in his possession.

..Everybody wanted Uchiha Itachi, it seemed, and as he slipped from the grip of consciousness, he knew, the demons would tear him limb from limb to have a piece.. Let them come..

...He would regret his hospitable welcoming later...

:: ::

**DARKO...**

_...Some people are just born with tragedy in their blood..._

:: ::

There was a bustle outside; White light, bodies moving, quivering, panicking; So many emotions, so many people that were unknown, and a few that were not. The news was spreading, like wildfire, like disease- Death had come swiftly, it had come to claim three lives, lives of people nobody had expected to die today. An elite jounin, and two genin students, on a simple D-ranked mission, right here in the village. Their bodies were torn apart, wasted, gored, and mutilated in the most horrific, and disturbing ways. It was dusk when the bodies were found, and the sun had been sinking in the horizon, casting the most ominous red glow over the scene. A more isolated training ground was where four bodies laid sprawled, slashed open, and gutted, cut as if they had been played with, all except for one.

Uchiha Itachi.

That was where all this manic attention was focused now- After nearly being sick to his stomach, the jounin that found the wasted group of Leaf shinobi had acted quickly, and discovering the eight year old Uchiha still just barely clinging to life, he rushed him to Konoha Medical Center, the emergency room. Within the time it took the doctors and nurses to give their full attention to Itachi, and have him hooked to IVs and cleaned up ready to be stitched back together and receive blood transfusions, all the staff, practically all the jounin in the village, many members of the ANBU, and the hokage himself knew of this disturbing event.

Everybody knew the situation- One jounin down, two genin murdered, and one genin hanging in the balance, though his wounds didn't match to those of his fallen comrades. They were killed by surprise, swiftly dealt a deadly blow, and then mutilated. Itachi was bruised up, as if there had been a struggle, and the cuts that spanned his young, fragile body, they seemed highly suspicious, almost as if they could have been..

"Self-inflicted..."

The boy's perception of this was hazy- He was drifting somewhere between the realms of sleep and complete consciousness, and yet his mind was taking in the surprised, and slightly offended reactions of his parents- The proud head of the Uchiha, they didn't want to hear this. They didn't want to hear this doctor try to tell them Itachi may have done this. They didn't want to hear that their perfect son could have been the one that slaughtered his teammates, or that he may have injured himself to such an extent, though only to make himself look less guilty.

It was all rubbish, wasn't it? Itachi couldn't have killed a jounin and two genin by himself, could he? Maybe he could, but.. Why would he? What purpose would it serve?

Fugaku and Mikoto seemed to use the same logic against the doctor that had examined and treated the young boy, but it was to no avail; Itachi was still going to be here for a few weeks for monitoring, not just because of his obvious injuries, but on a deeper psychological level-

For the love of Kami- He was going to be monitored and examined by a shrink. The boy wasn't around enough, however, to know what to think. Perhaps this was for the best- Something inside him had changed, something was wrong.. He needed help, Gods, he needed somebody.. He tried and tried to grasp the reason for the fear arising, dragging his mind down into a nightmarish and yet blackened state.

Something had happened- Itachi couldn't completely remember. Only slight flashes of brutal slaughter played through his mind in a scarlet tone. His sensei, his team mates, they all fell before him so quickly, he couldn't figure out what had happened- They were dead, lifeless.

Did he do this? No, no, he didn't, he didn't! There was something else, somebody else, he had fought for his life, he had used all his knowledge, all his skill, and yet his enemy had merely toyed with him, and left him.

..But he had left him alive...Why, why would this creature leave this boy alive..? Why, why was Itachi's head pounding so violently, why did his eyes burn? Fire? There was fire. Itachi could see fire from behind the blood that had splattered into his eyes, and dappled his vision in crimson overcast. It hurt-It hurt- By Kami it was killing him. His eyes; There would be nothing but ash left. He had to keep fighting, he had to stay alive, he had to. He had to!

In a burst of movement the boy, still less than conscious, came up off the hospital bed with a scream that was completely feral- it sounded like an animal that was caught in the jaws of a predator, about to be forever silenced. The boy bolted as far as he could, ripping out IVs and other various monitors as he did, and the doctor, along with Itachi's parents, only watched in utter surprise and shock as the injured child made for the door, and took off down the hall. Luckily he was caught moments later after making it just around the corner, and escaping into the arms of other hospital workers. It took three or four of them to restrain the flailing child- Apparently he was stronger than he looked, though it was most worrisome because of his battered state. He was fighting for his life, or at least his overactive mind inside his dormant body believed so, and yet at the same time he was only making things worse.

It ended soon enough- Though it took a good portion of the hospital staff to hold the boy down so he could be restrained, and a heavy dosage of sedative to calm his endless inward battle.

It should have been so very apparent now- Itachi had not done this to himself, no matter what the medical testing suggested. Looking down at the child, seeing him still writhing, and fighting against the restraints that pinned down his bandaged limbs, panting, exhausted and brutally inured, all that should have been enough, but no.. There was one other strong indication that this boy had indeed fought for his very life, and lived where his team mates and sensei had been slaughtered, and now everybody in the room was gazing down in shock and yet.. In awe.

The slumbering boy finally began to still, and the crowd in the room moved in closer as he did- They all wanted to get a glimpse; The deathly pale, sweat beaded skin, marred here and there with cuts and bruises, making the boy seem as if he had seen a ghost, and as if he truly had, here he laid wide-eyed, though his eyes rippled fiery crimson, gazing, unblinking.

Sharingan- Activated in the face of death. Now all that was left was to find out..

What had happened to Uchiha Itachi..?

::

...TBC...

::

A/N: Here we have the very first chapter of my new fic. Anybody find it slightly interesting so far? This chapter isn't meant to be completely clear, just a bit intriguing. What is to come? Horror, angst, suffering, schizophrenia- All those dark and yummy things. Title is tribute to 'Donnie Darko'- Obvious reasons. Please review if you read it. Reviews are the fuel for this burning fire that is my imagination.


	2. Chapter 2

Dark eyes flickered open, immediately taking in the white of the ceiling, the blinding, blinding white. The mentally and visually consuming coloration bled down into the walls and floors, and the sheets. With a snap of his young body, the Uchiha boy jumped up, completely unaware of where he was, and without any second thoughts, he was sure this was not a place he wanted to be.

He was perched upon a hospital bed, the sheets wrapped tightly around him, so much so that they pulled against his form, and made his chest pulse in agony. Surrounding him, as he observed despite the sting in every muscle of his body, was the cold décor of a hospital room, and surely beyond the cold hinged door was the rest of the hospital. But something wasn't right. He was all alone, and the lights seemed dimmer than they should have been when his eyes adjusted.

[[His eyes felt like they were burning.. burning.. BURNING!]]

He fidgeted his face into the palms of his hands, rubbing, and hiding himself, but not from the pain, not from the obviousness of the memories he had forgotten for the time being; Those sick memories that only haunted him more as they flashed in the back of his mind. He was so nervous, anxious.. He truly was hiding, but he had no idea what from. He pulled his hands away from his face, and looked once more. This place was turning gray right before him, twisted cinders crawling slowly up from the base boards of the room, blackening everything in serpent-like patterns from the ground up.

And then the door of the room slowly pushed open with an obnoxious creak, and he stared in that direction, awaiting whoever would be joining him, feeling it had to be his link to reality, to survival, to escape. But nobody ever came, nobody came in to visit Uchiha Itachi but the cold bluster from down the dead hallways; that and silence.

[[There was nobody… But there had to be… Somebody.]]

Itachi could hear it, just barely if he strained; Whispers, the voices of children, and of shinobi, and of people he knew, and people he didn't know. What were they saying? What the –hell- were they saying? His hands fidgeted up again, covering his ears as his sensitive eyes finally caught sight of a dark shadow moving just outside his door. He had no idea who it was, but he wanted that person. He wanted all this surreal fantasy to end and he wanted a link to the outside.

Warm feet were pulled from beneath the shielding sheets, and pressed to the shocking cold of the floor. He ignored it, completely closed up from things such as that, and he swiftly, but still cautiously followed after the phantom from the hallways. With a few paces he made it to the opened door, and peered out, finding not a soul to be witnessed, but near the turned corner of the hallway there was a waiting shadow, a flutter of wings, and a trio of ebony feathers, like those that would belong to a raven.

[[Had he taken your soul after all?]]

The boy ignored the twist deep in his gut, and the aches all over his body, and followed after the shadow, feeling apprehension slide within him as he slowly rounded the turn to find yet another empty space; There was nothing but a dead end, and dimming, dying lights, and absolutely no place for anybody to run to. Was Itachi missing something here? He continued forward, set in his mind on reaching the dead end wall, and standing beneath the flickering lights, because he just had to find out who he had been following. Surely, surely it hadn't been just his imagination!

His steps were slow, wary patters of his naked feet, and in the empty vessel of the building he was within, each little step gave him no answer at all. Nothing was here. There was nothing. Once he was beneath the dying, flashing light, he reached out to touch the dead-end wall, examining the solid surface, and finding nothing more than that- A solid surface. Then, at last, the light bulb above his head died with a horrific shatter. Itachi looked up into the black of the ceiling, and then he turned his head to face the way he had come from, noting something standing at the end of the hall, now completely visible to him.

There was a phantom dressed in black with silvery ornamentation, and from behind his back sprouted enormous wings, adorned with glossy obsidian feathers. Those wings stretched high above his head, the span of them enormous; It was such a distraction that the young Uchiha had no time to look at the rest of the phantom, save for those wings, those devilish, devilish wings.

And stare the boy did until he felt a whisper of breath against his tender neck, and he saw the phantom move slightly in vicious apprehension. Swiftly did the young Uchiha spin around, only to be engulfed in the grasp of some crimson-eyed beast clad in shadow black.

With a gasp, and faint struggle, he felt he was consumed, locked within the belly of a hungry devil which bit into him much too sweetly, savoring the flavor of the boy's delectable blood.

:: ::

**How's it feel to have a wacko for a son..?**

_It feels wonderful._

_:: ::_

"Ah, there's those gorgeous sharingan everybody has been dying to see."

The young Uchiha jolted once again, finding himself in the very same hospital bed, the same white room, the same dull, but blinding terror, but this time he was instantly greeted with a warm female voice. However, he could not get up in order to see the woman just beyond his vision, because the pain inside him had returned tenfold, and his wrists were tied down in some sort of binding. He tugged up with his hands, hearing the clink of chains as he looked over, noticing the white cuff secured to his wrist, and the small metallic links attached.

"Oh, let me help you with that.."

The voice spoke up again, delicate and frail in its pitch, and so soft in its tone- This voice was that of a young female, but older than Itachi, clearly. The young shinobi was sure he did not recognize the voice, and he often found tones to be a matter of pretense, but to him, in this very moment, this voice was comforting. It was much better than those damnable whispers, and the sound of cawing crows.

Not so surprisingly, the touch that came paired with the voice was just as tender and warm. The young Uchiha heir fell completely still, his body relaxed at the slight tickle of fingertips on his wrists, unfastening the cuffs that held him down. He waited for his arms to be freed, and at which point he thought to snap up from the bed, but he gasped as his muscles tensed, and he was no more sitting up than he was laying with his back to the mattress without a drop of pain in his system. He found that he could not sit up, because his chest felt exactly like a delicate puzzled that could be shattered if moved about. He thought surely he would fall apart if he dared to move.

"Don't worry, they put a brace on you, so it's fine for you to sit up as long as you don't strain yourself... Here." That soft and dainty hand touched the heir once more, and with a kind arm the woman lifted the young male up, and adjusted his pillows so he could comfortably lean on them. He winced only slightly as the entire ordeal erupted in agonizing pain, his ribs still wishing to fall apart, and puncture his lungs so he could drown in his own blood.

"You hide your pain well for a kid… I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I've heard your one of the most gifted genin in the village, a graduate from the last batch of kids put through the special ops program at the shinobi academy… Though, I can't say I've met any others before you, so of course I'm astounded."

The young Uchiha took a moment to breathe a few very slow gulps of air before unconsciously activated sharingan trailed up to observe the woman as she backed off to give the boy more room; These crimson eyes closely watched her movements as she backed up, and turned to find the chair she surely had been sitting in for a while, just waiting. This woman was of a thin frame, with long, inky black hair she had twisted and pinned up with a few stands falling just barely against her face. Her eyes were wide, and dark, and her skin was extremely fair, her lips a faint tinge of pink against a powder white complexion.

Itachi shouldn't have been surprised when the woman turned her back to reveal an Uchiha crest upon her long jacket. She was family- But strangely the boy couldn't say he recognized her. She obviously wasn't a shinobi, which was unusual for any Uchiha, and she wasn't a nurse or doctor, because she wasn't fittingly dressed in their proper attire. Who was she?

"Let's see.." She spoke, almost to herself as she lifted up a clipboard from the table just next to her chair. "Uchiha Itachi… I'll just go ahead and tell you everything you already know… A week and two days ago your entire team was killed here in the village. A jounin and two genin. Their bodies, during the autopsies, were found to have no obvious signs of struggle imprinted before death.. They were merely killed, and played with. However, you, who we have all assumed to be of lesser strength than your sensei would have been, are still alive, though heavily injured. Your injuries, however, do not really match the 'playful' mutilations of your teammates, and therefore, you have been somehow accused of causing the death of your team, and the damage to yourself to avoid any suspicion… Is there anything you would like to say?"

The boy found himself just staring at the woman as her sweet voice droned on for far too long. It really just turned into a stifled echo in the Uchiha boy's mind, but somehow he took some things in still. His team... They were dead? Was that the cause of the churning in his belly, and the stink of blood and fire lingering on his bruised skin? Was that the reason he felt he had been torn apart, and stitched haphazardly back together? …No, he didn't know, he didn't know… He didn't know anything. All he could remember was not a memory at all, but teasing flashes of blood and screams clawing at the back of his head.

A soft groan barely escaped as he leaned his head into his palm, inky bangs falling about his face. His face; He felt bandages beneath his fingers, and he trailed them with his fingertips. One cheek was hot, and burned, and his entire face was cut and bruised here and there, as was the rest of his body- But these bandages intrigued him the most right now, for whatever reason, and his fingers indulged in the foreign feeling of pain and sticky material clinging to him.

"Itachi..?" The woman got up again, and in an instant the blood red of the very young male's sharingan was placed piercingly upon her. She almost seemed to flinch from it, from the danger of it, but she maintained her confident compassion, and strode forward, touching that wonderfully silky hand to the young boy's forehead, her fingers just barely lying against Itachi's own. "I know you must be in such terrible pain, but it is important that you tell me something.. You have to tell me what happened to you, and your team.. You're the only one who knows."

Sharingan rose completely with Itachi's head as he lifted straight, and clear from the woman's touch. He knew something had happened, and his injuries were certainly proof to him enough, but… He could not remember anything. He did not even know this woman either, and so, he just stared at her, looking in silence for the answer he was seeking. The quiet must have been unbearable for the female Uchiha, because after a few minutes of it, and the focused stare of ruby doll-eyes, she shrank back to her seat, flustered.

"Are you just not going to speak up, then, Itachi? …If you can't talk to me, then.. There is little hope for you." With her own hope diminished, and looking utterly defeated, she began to pace slowly to the door, the eight-year old's attention following as smooth and rhythmic as the click-click-click of the woman's shoes, and as much as breathing deeply burned from within, Itachi at last took a long gulp of air, his vocal chords feeling distant and forgotten in a scorched, dry throat. "Who.."

One small syllable was audible, but barely a whisper, a subtle strength from the young male as he winced, and brought up one thin hand to touch his throat, wishing he could claw into his flesh, and tear out that which was troubling him so. That one word captured the female's attention, and she turned happily to face the boy again, the light of hope returning to her spirits, though her saddened sympathy was even greater, and with merciful pity, she walked over, lifting a small cup of water from the table near her chair, and she brought it to be held at the boy's lips. She should have assumed the smoke and fire which had completely engulfed the scene would have made the young male's throat tender.

At a very, very slow pace Itachi allowed himself to be given the liquid, wary at how his body would react to the cold substance, and just as he had assumed, it stung horribly as it slid down his throat, provoking another bitten-back sound of discomfort, and a slight wince. Still, he continued to drink, trying hard to ignore the burning.

He pulled away when he finally just could not take anymore, and the woman easily recognized that he was done, tugging the cup back, and giving him a hopeful look. He knew exactly what she was wanting, and he tried so hard to force himself beyond hesitation.

"..Who are you?"

With a curious sort of blink, the woman took in the young male's request for her identity- She couldn't think anything of it, because it was logical that the young male would want to know. He had been through a lot, and now he had suddenly woken up in a strange place with a strange person. He needed some kind of reassurance. He was a shinobi, but still just a boy. At last she nodded, and spoke up simply, her voice soft and steady. "My name is Seiko Uchiha. I'm your therapist- I'm here to monitor you for a few different reasons. I need to make sure everything is alright upstairs, and that you haven't suffered any major trauma. I'm also here to analyze your behavior so we can know that you weren't behind the killing of your team.. And, to be honest, I didn't think there was even a slight possibility of that, but I wanted to be the one to watch over you, since, of course, you're a young cousin of mine. And, since you're my very first patient, and I'm new to this work, you and I will be special friends.. Is that alright with you, Itachi?"

In all honesty, if Itachi answered, he would say he did not know what was alright anymore. He had no idea what to think or how to go about figuring anything out, because his mind had betrayed him. He turned his head slowly away, focusing on the window on the far side of his room, which was very near to his bed.

When Seiko did not get an answer, she leaned to look at Itachi, and she looked up to see where he was focusing. With the smallest notion she walked over to the window, and raised the blinds, allowing the sunlight to warm the white room, though momentarily it stole Itachi's sight away, his sensitive vision being hidden from the strong light by pale eyelids, and thick black lashes.

"This view is very nice. I thought I would show you. Are your eyes giving you trouble?" The woman turned back to the boy after raising the blinds, giving Itachi a sweet smile, and a hopeful expression, though still she wasn't really getting much out of the young male. She was patient, though, because she could see that once Itachi's eyes adjusted to the new brightness, he was observing the view; just as she said, it was nice. Itachi would guess he was almost at the top floor, as he could see a far stretch of the city from the window. If he felt he could move from his bed, he would look closer, but, there was no way he could get up.

"Itachi?" Seiko spoke up, imploring, and the young male felt himself breaking under her curiosity, wishing for nothing more than to sink back into the realms of sleep. He had been resting for a very long time, but his form was more exhausted than it had ever been, and in his tired frustration he gave up, giving out the only answer he had, which wasn't an answer at all.

"I don't know." He blinked, looking no place but straight ahead as he fell into a blank daze, wanting to collapse. That fate could not yet be granted, because Seiko traced her steps back to the side of the boy's bed, her gentle voice still pressing, even though Itachi said he didn't know.

"You've forgotten everything? ..All of it?"

The boy still stared, his lids becoming very heavy, and his body becoming insanely weak. He had never fallen into exhaustion so quickly as this, and it irritated him, but he gave a slow nod to the woman still questioning him, and surprisingly, she began to back off her determination. "Alright then." She spoke up in a resigned, but soft tone, offering aid in helping Itachi lie back down. She understood the reason behind his sudden faintness, and that was because a second IV drip on a time schedule had activated, and he was being given sedatives and psychoactive restraints to keep him from flaring out into nightmares, coming up from the bed, and injuring himself in unconscious struggle. With utmost care the female Uchiha reattached the cuffs to the boy's wrists as he slipped out of consciousness, and she gave him something to dream about.

"I'll talk to you again soon. We'll find out what happened.. together."

:: ::

Pulled from a dark blanket of nothing, with the drugs fading from his battered system, the young male began to come around again. His ruby eyes, which were still twirling in an overactive mode, allowing them to cling to permanence, instantly focused on the sun pouring in from his window. Morning- He must have slept through the afternoon, and night, and had returned to the waking world only now.

He laid, unable to move from his position as he was still pinned down, and he watched the bright golden orb as she began her ascent into the sky over Konoha. The vision of the rising sun was replenishing to the shattered young boy, making him feel at least spiritually stronger. His heart beat contently in the stillness of his current ignorance, his stray from the happenings which had left him in this situation. And he noticed something- Though his throat and eyes were still feeling very irritated, the soreness of his injuries was very numb today.

With a soft click of the door, Itachi turned his head, facing that direction, and he was instantly met with the bright young face of Seiko. She looked uncannily pleased to be here now, and Itachi just wished to sink into gloom at her pleasant mood.

"Oh, Itachi. You're up, how good." She shuffled over, quickly, but carefully freeing him from his restraints and helping him sit up. She clearly had something nice to say, but Itachi was just hoping that whatever it was, it was just as good for him.

"Since you seemed to be in a lot of pain yesterday, I had the doctor up your dosage of pain killer, so you should be feeling your injuries a good deal less now. And also, I have something special for you." Sharingan eyes focused coldly on the woman, the young boy's face blank, but his mind helplessly curious as Seiko stepped out of the door for a moment. She returned in nearly an instant, a small dish carried in one hand, and with her other hand she swiveled a mini table, which was attached to the bed, up in front of the young boy. Upon the mini table she sat the silvery dish, and instantly Itachi's lashes were lowered to his cheeks as he stared down at the rounded mint-green balls of frozen green tea ice cream in the container. In a movement finalizing the gift, Seiko lowered a spoon into the younger Uchiha's hand, closing his fingers around it.

The boy looked up, curious, and as an instant answer he received a smile from the young woman, her warm and caring smile accompanied by a soft voice. "I spoke with your parent's yesterday, to let them know what was going on, and while talking, your Okaasan told me that even though you have a perfectly trained shinobi-front, you love sweets as much as any kid your age.. And since your throat was troubling you, I knew a bit of ice cream would soothe it a bit."

In typical form, Itachi allowed his attention to slowly drift from Seiko's bright face to the cool, sweet treat set before him. The small spoon was twirled between his fingers, though very slow and thoughtfully, as if he was pondering something, which of course, he was, and as Seiko surely knew this, he shared. It came in the form of an inquiry directed at her anyway. "..Have my parents been here?"

For once the girl's bright attitude failed her, and a pause was taken- That was just enough for Itachi to know the answer, and he kept his brilliant red eyes focused down on the silvery spoon, only now finally seeing the crimson hue of his glassy optics, which he questioned inwardly, while bringing the makeshift mirror up closer to his face so he could have a better look. In the meantime, Seiko answered his question, treading very carefully.

"Well, they were here the night you were brought in, but your parents are the head of the Uchiha. Your father is busy with missions and clan business, and you have a brother who is still very young, right? But I've spoken with them almost every day since you've been here.

The young boy gave no response to the answer he was given, though he listened, and took it in, seemingly accepting of those words, when really.. He wasn't at all. Without any more need for questioning, he dipped the spoon into the bowl, and drew forth a bite of the treat he had been gifted, accepting Seiko's offer, and perhaps partially accepting her as he slipped the sweet substance into his mouth.

:: ::

_There was a whisper, a voice tying to tell Itachi something, and he didn't know but for whatever reason, he believed it to be of some importance. He opened his eyes, those red, red eyes, and he looked around him, all voices suddenly silent as he stood in the dark._

_It was black, empty and cold darkness, lit only with hundreds of pairs of crimson lights; The subtle repetitive luminance was a thing common and familiar to the boy, it was the eyes of his clansmen, the eyes geared for war; War which was brutal, and bloody and devastating. He was not afraid, because he had no reason to fear his brethren, but as he made to move closer to at least one of them, he discovered a great frustration, a difficulty. The floor- It was cluttered with something unknown to him, something that he could not see. He did persist with great determination, trying to make it to at least one of the sets of eyes, wishing to speak, wishing to find out where the light had disappeared to, and what the hell was going on. What was going on?_

_But to the young males great disappointment, even as he struggled to reach the people just beyond his grasp, once he got almost near enough to touch them, those brilliant eyes flickered out, and they were gone just like that._

_Why? Why did they keep leaving? Where were they going? At the point Itachi found himself most frustrated, the light began to slowly find its way to the scene, dim and dull at first before growing steadily brighter, showing Itachi to the mass he was surrounded by. He stared, gaped, disbelieving, and unsure of what was going on, looking around, and looking down to see his bared feet soaked in red, his legs and body splattered in crimson, and the floor littered with bodies, bodies of people he knew, of family, and friends in relation to him, and those he had lived his life beside, all dead, dead, DEAD!_

_His heart was near panic, his uncertainty his source of nervousness, but just as he was about to break on the inside at the entrapment, the utter fact that he was locked in a box with nothing but death, he heard something break the stale silence.._

_It was a soft, and pitiful sound, it sounded like.. A child. A crying child; He looked slowly around, his breath captured in the back of his throat, his heart pounding fiercely within him, and with a minute struggle he finally saw the one who was making the dull, and quiet noise. Sitting up amongst the litter was a very small child, one with a back marked with a bloodied Uchiha crest, and obsidian locks common to the Uchiha bloodline. He was shivering, whimpering, and curled against his knees, which were pressed to him. Itachi could do nothing but warily approach, his footsteps not capturing the child's attention until he was directly next to the boy._

_The surprise only crawled into the older male's system as the little boy looked up with a face slightly older than the one Itachi knew, but still recognizable. It was.. It was Sasuke. It was Sasuke covered in blood, and gore._

_"..Niisan.." The little boy spoke up, and Itachi crouched down next to him, instantly being clung to like a lifeline by the younger male, those little arms tightly wound around his neck, holding onto him for security, for dear life. Softly that bell-like little voice whispered into the heir's ear, shaking and so utterly fearful. "Niisan.. The one that did this is down that hall.." Sasuke looked forward once more, pointing toward a hallway in which a set of red eyes were waiting, and the elder stared right back as the eyes looked on, unblinking. As he watched for any sign on movement, his little brother continued on, pleading now with Itachi. "Make him go away Niisan, please, get rid of him."_

_"Alright Sasuke.." He let the young boy slip from his grasp, Sasuke instantly whimpering for Itachi to not leave him, and the older male placed the small boy on his back, telling him to hold on tightly, and not to let go. Sasuke easily agreed, his weight barely noticeable to the older male, though the fearful snuggling of his face into the back of Itachi's neck, and into his raven locks was clear, but not a distraction. He said nothing of it, knowing Sasuke had to be utterly terrified, and as Itachi was shaken up himself, he felt nothing stronger than the urge to keep his sibling safe._

_With caution he began down the hall, submerging himself in the thick blackness, and bravely he set one foot in front of the other, eyes locked with deadly intensity on the crimson glow awaiting him. He was completely unfaltering, not pausing for a moment, just continuing to walk forward as Sasuke clung on tightly to his back. After a subtle tread, Itachi was standing before the red-eyed beast who had killed everybody, and with one final step the hall was flashed in light, and his eyes widened to behold the image before him._

_The man he stood before was a vision imprinted onto a sleek, cold, silvery surface; It was nothing more than a mirror, and there stood the reflection of Itachi himself, slightly older than he was now, and with a sword, which was coated, dripping with blood, in his hand. Instantly, Sasuke started whimpering, chattering, repeating over and over the same thing. "Get rid of him, please, make him go away.. Kill him.."_

_"Kill him.. Kill him. Kill him. Kill him!"_

_One small hand, which was pressed to the elder male's throat, suddenly grabbed at the tender flesh, tiny nails cutting in as the little boy's other hand drew forth a kunai, pressing the razor-sharp blade to Itachi's pulse before forcing it in, dragging it across the soft flesh, and slicing it open deeply with a sinister child's laugh erupting._

_Itachi dropped down to his knees, grasping the wound which was gushing with blood, the crimson substance slipping between his fingers, and puddling on the ground. The steady dribbling aided the splattered puddle in growing, but slowly Itachi's eyes looked up from it, just to see his baby brother standing before him, a twisted smirk on his young face, and fresh blood soaking him as he giggled coldly, his own rounded eyes twirling with fierce ruby sharingan._

_"What's wrong Niisan? Are you okay?" That otherwise innocent-sounding voice spoke up maliciously, tainted with poisonous venom, and he giggled merrily at his work, red eyes gleefully watching the life slip from his big brothers form. As Itachi weakened, Sasuke took baby-steps closer, his tiny, tiny hand reaching out to touch the heir's face, and he got very near as he spoke softly. "Isn't this what you wanted, Niisan? Didn't I do a good job?"_

_Once more the boy laughed softly before leaning in the press a tender little kiss to his dying brother's lips, a parting gift for Itachi's departure._

::

"Itachi!"

The heir jolted awake, a hand clasping his throat, still caught up in the idea that he was bleeding to death, and though he was now free from the nightmares that clutched him, his eyes were not yet seeing of his current situation, though he could feel the cool wind whipping at his cheeks, and his dampened forehead, and he could hear.. A voice calling to him. Who was it?

Those vibrant rubies unsheathed themselves from darkness, though the night sky was just as apparent before them. In the distance were the jewel-like stars, and the pale moon floating in the navy blue endlessness of the sky. The boy was finding himself staring at a beautiful view, but not from his window, because the window laid behind him, and his feet were grounded to the length of the ledge outside that restricting glass. With eyes calmly trailing, he allowed himself to stare down, taking in the vision of a night-time Konoha, sound asleep, and far, far below him as he perched just upon the edge, one step from tumbling down to his death.

He gasped, not as much from surprise, but at the pain which struck him with his brand new realization. He was still heavily injured, his chest battered with broken ribs yet to heal, and muscles torn during hopeless struggle. From his fingers he could feel his blood dripping warmly, seeping from wounds around his wrist, and holes from which he had torn IVs out for a second time. He bit down on his lip, fighting to keep his balance as pain wracked his body, and he sank down unwillingly to his knees, hardly able to hold himself up. His breath hitched, captured in the back of his throat, unable to come out in regular cycle as the boy's gut twisted in amongst the pain, his mind focused on the fall over the edge soon to come, sure to come, because he was physically unable to move away, and almost completely incapable of keeping himself up for another second.

"Itachi.. Stop, don't move.."

That voice, the heir recognized it now; It was that woman Seiko, and he struggled to turn his head, spotting her crawling out the window, and pacing toward him, across the narrow stretch of the black roofing in the dark grasp of almost lightless night. "Please don't move.. I'll come to you.."

Itachi did nothing but nod to the woman, trying his best to comply with what she had said, though his limbs were shaking uncontrollably. The most he could do was focus on her footsteps, steadily drawing her nearer as he fought to keep himself from tumbling. The world, however, did not seem to want his presence any longer, as the wind pushed against him in gusts, making him that much more unsteady where his balance was faltering already. He could feel it, his arms giving out, and he was leaning closer and closer until he could not keep himself from the fall and longer, and his weight shifted toward the clear and open air, his body tumbling.

However, just as he was bound for death, he felt hands clasping him, arms winding around him to keep him from falling to an abrupt end of his life. He was swiftly tugged backwards, falling once more, but only to land on his back, in the tight clutches of the woman looking after him, a soft body cushioning him, though not aiding in erasing the pain from his injuries. He tried his very hardest to keep himself under control, his breath coming out in harsh pants as he at last found it in himself to breathe, though amidst his gasping a small groan of discomfort escaped as his devastatingly sore chest was jarred again and again, the burn of it all pulsing inside him with each breath he took. And though he didn't know how he had gotten out onto the ledge he was on, he knew his healing had been set back- He could feel that.

As Seiko's startled form began to move, shifting Itachi with it, the boy bit his lip, wincing, and doing everything he could to maintain his young shinobi front, even if it was unnecessary. The fact that the female Uchiha shushed him gently as she stood, lifting him up and carrying him back toward the window, was not the reason that Itachi calmed himself. It was because he knew she could tell he was in unbelievable pain, and because of that he sank back into a passive state, just breathing steadily in and out.

The woman struggled, but managed to carry the eight year old as gently as possible to the bed, placing him back down. Itachi glanced to the side, noticing the links of the blood-stained cuffs had been broken.

The heir's breathing was interrupted now, though, as he felt the air clash with something liquid in his throat, and he coughed, a splatter of blood staining his lips, his injuries only serving to have further hurt him now after all his mobility. He could hear Seiko panicking further, her voice trembling as she attempted to reassure herself, and figure out what needed to be done next. She looked down upon the boy, looking more worried than Itachi had ever seen her, and it made him wonder if he was going to die now. Faintly, he began to make out a touch of red, which grew into bright crimson in the depths of the woman's eyes, and without needing a single extra moment to think, Itachi snapped his own eyes shut, his voice forcing its way out past the blood and the soreness of his throat. "No, I don't want to go back to sleep, don't make me sleep anymore."

"I have to.." Seiko spoke up in soft reply, her voice reassuring through her own fear, and with gentle fingertips she pushed the young male's bangs away from his pale face. "It would be cruel to let you stay awake now.. I've called the doctors, and they will be here any moment to help you. You don't need to be awake for it. Just trust me. I'll be here when you wake up again, and you'll be alright.."

Her hand moved down to clasp one of Itachi's bloody hands, and she gave it a comforting squeeze as she whispered softly to him. "Trust me."

The boy, with no other option, did as he was told, opening his eyes to meet Seiko's sharingan, a hypnosis falling quickly upon him, and lulling him back into the frightful clutches of restless slumber.

:: ::

He eventually found himself waking again, his eyelids unusually heavy, even as they raised up to reveal red optics. He had a look around as he came to, noticing instantly that he had been moved, and he was no longer in the room with the window that had such a nice view. No, the place he had been stashed now had no windows, it was nothing but whitish-gray walls, and a heavy door. It resembled a jail-cell, though it still had all those hospital-room typicals. There was a television on the wall in front of his bed, and a table with armchairs on each side on the far corner of the room. What was certainly a television remote was sloppily put down upon the table a short distance away, face-down and with no particular care for where it pointed.

On Itachi's right side, facing the door, Seiko was sitting in a stray armchair with her elbow propped upon the table next to the bed, and her head rested in her palm. She seemed to be snoozing, a book having been flopped down in a manner that saved the place just within her reach on the table, and now her eyes were shut as she slumbered in this upright position. Itachi found that he could not move at all, his wrists now doubly tied down with two cuffs, a cuff which was about his elbow joint, and then wrapped just around the top of the brace meant to keep the boy's bones from being irritated as they mended, a strap that held him down against the bed.

Looking in the sleeping woman's direction, Itachi took a breath, and spoke up, his throat, at least, slightly less sore than it had been. "..Seiko.."

At the tiny sound, the woman awakened from her light nap, doe-like eyes resting instantly upon the boy, and she sat up straight in her chair, relieved to see her patient now awake. She was relieved, and yet, for a moment she said nothing, her thoughts obviously many, but too much all over the place, and she needed a moment to focus. She cleared her throat once she had collected herself, and her soft voice was emitted from behind her pale lips. "..Itachi.. Since you're awake now.. Do you want to talk about what happened the last time you were awake?"

The eight-year-old shifted, turning his head to face forward, his eyes staring up at the ceiling, and it was apparent that he only wished to clam up into himself concerning everything that had happened, but Seiko wasn't going to allow it. She stood, beginning the horrid process of undoing all the restraints, obviously prepared to make the younger male more comfortable and free so they could have a decent discussion. In the silence, Itachi's attention fell upon his therapist's face, noting that she too seemed to have acquired some dark circles since the last time he looked at her.

"You look tired." Itachi spoke up, his words blunt and probably a bit on the more impolite side, but the ring of curiosity focused the statement more as a question concerning what had happened to Seiko over the last few days.. However long it had been.

"Thanks a lot." She remarked, a womanish pride in her looks most apparent, but she still smiled at the observant young boy, not taking his comment as malicious, but rather she focused on the fact that there was reason behind her obvious tiredness. "Well.. Since I was worried, I stayed with you, and you have the only bed in the room."

"You stayed here?" Itachi questioned, feeling almost confused at the thought of this woman remaining by his side on a constant basis just to make sure he was safe. He was a shinobi, after all. There was no guarantee that he wouldn't die on his very first mission once he got out of the hospital. Her efforts would be wasted. She still nodded to him, clearly hovering in apprehension of an answer to her own question, especially since she had indulged Itachi's curiosity.

Itachi knew what was expected of him, as much as he hated it, but after a few more moments in silence, he decided it was best for him to speak up. This woman, she had given him reason to trust her, and she was only here to help. And Itachi needed somebody to help him now. "..I don't know how it happened.."

The woman halted in her movements, staring down at the delicate boy, observing his blank expression, and pale, but beautifully child-like face. The boy's eyes seared crimson flame, hidden only by dark, butterfly-wing lashes, but those eyes were fading, and becoming hollow, dying. Itachi needed help before his spirit left him as nothing more than a pretty shell of a person. Seiko moved after a pause, tucking a stray lock of hair behind the boy's ear as the rest of the obsidian mass spanned out upon the stark white of the pillow, and his weak voice continued to speak. "..All I know is that I was sleeping.. I was dreaming a horrible dream.. And I woke up when you called my name.. And I was on that ledge.. I don't know anything other than that."

Seeming satisfied, Seiko slowly nodded, her focus completely intense as Itachi's crimson optics flickered up to look at her. She gave back her own answer to what she had been told, her voice low but confident, like she had pinned an answer just beneath her soft little hands, and she was going to help the boy. She was going to save him.

"I thought you would say something like that."

With a delicate touch, she helped sit Itachi up in his bed, propping a pillow up behind his back before she lifted her book from the table, and glanced over a few marked pages, nodding to herself. When she looked back up at the boy, she began to explain, though she kept her more drawn-out explanation saved for later. "Itachi.. Have you noticed that just before you were put in the hospital, you fully awakened your sharingan?"

The heir nodded to the woman, remembering having seen his reflection in the spoon before, and noticing that his eyes were flaring a luminous ruby, and that he had already somehow acquired the full extent of the sharingan tomoe.

"Well.." Seiko began. "I think what happened the other night may have possibly had something to do with your sharingan. I've also noticed that ever since you've been here, your sharingan hasn't deactivated, though it would have had plenty of time to set itself in permanently by now." She paused, taking a slow breath as she moved to perch on the edge of the mattress next to Itachi, her own eyes becoming vibrant red as she looked at him, and he attentively listened to her once she continued. "So, I think it would be a good idea for me to deactivate it for you now. That may possibly ease your mental strain for a time."

Itachi did not look away yet, as he usually did, but he found himself to be confused by Seiko's suggestion. After all, what did sharingan have to do with any of this? Still, she had proven to him that she had the best intentions, and it was her wish to help, so without questioning her methods, he nodded, resigned, and once more he found himself submitting to her crimson stare. He watched as her ruby eyes twisted in activation, this time not causing him to fall asleep, but for just the slightest moment he felt a burn in the depths of his own red pools as they surely faded down to inky black.

Once it was done, he raised his palms to be set over his closed eyes, and as his irritated optics rested in the comforting dark against soft, soft skin, another hand was placed against his head, thin fingers stroking his wispy black bangs. Seiko- He wondered why she cared so much, or she at least seemed to. What reason did she honestly have? Was it just because she was an Uchiha and she was taking care of the boy who was more or less the prince of that great line? Really, though.. He supposed it didn't matter, and because of that, he would stop caring. Seiko had been here with him all this time while his parents probably spared less than five minutes of their days to check up on the boy as he wasted away in a hospital bed, torn apart with horrid injuries in a place where everybody assumed he was some sort of insane murderer.

"Seiko.." The boy spoke up softly, his words barely making it out from beneath his bowed head. "Thank you."

He still did not look up, but he felt the female's hand drop away from him, her astounded pause most apparent in the clasp of ringing silence. Why was she so surprised? Did she expect the young heir to be incapable of gratitude, or was it something else? Itachi could not say for himself, but soon he felt himself gently, very carefully encircled in the woman's arms, just like the night she saved him from a fall to his death. He said no more, he just let it be.

:: ::

It was the first time in weeks that he had seen his parents, both his proud father and his docile mother. Neither seemed to act particularly excited now revisiting their recovering son, as they filed into the room, going directly to the two seats at each side of the table on the other wall of the room.

But that's right- They were here to talk to Seiko, because she was the one who called them in for conference. It had been a couple of weeks since the sleep-walking incident, and the femme Uchiha was very confident that she had locked onto the problem with that. She had monitored Itachi a lot while he was still critical, having been the one who pushed for the anti-psychotics to restrain his overactive mental state. She noted that those only worked minutely for a short time while the boy's sharingan remained active, but she pushed things, until eventually it became too dangerous, and that had been the point that she took it upon herself to get rid of the problem.

Keeping his sharingan dormant now, the dreams had lessened greatly, but soon little flashes and short terrors came back to haunt him, which resulted in him waking up in his bed, thankfully, and merely going back to sleep. He shared his problems openly with Seiko, because he figured she could be the one to aid him with such issues, and of course, she did. She had reached back for the old means of relief, the anti-psychotic drugs, and only a very small dosage was necessary now to keep Itachi's horrors at bay. He could only be thankful for all of the woman's help.

The young therapist, now with enough proof to back her theories due to her diligent study of her patient's behavior, had summoned the young male's parents in order to talk with them about it. She still was not sure if it had anything to do with the murders, but she doubted it highly, and as for the loss of memory Itachi had suffered concerning the entire ordeal, she would do something about that soon enough. She had first needed to fully gain the boy's trust, because forcing the memories to resurface was regretfully going to be a devastating process.

For now, she wanted to slowly and carefully handle one issue at a time. Dealing with the head Uchiha couple, right at this moment, was her main focus, and she pulled up a chair to face the two of them, Itachi quietly watching and listening from his bed.

"I'm sure you both recall my previous updates, the times I spoke with you concerning your son's overactive mental state, namely during sleep, the nightmares, the sleepwalking, the almost unreal strength and resistance to pain gained during those episodes, and how his activated sharingan remained for an overly long period of time.." She reached for her clipboard, which had remained on the table just between the Uchiha head, and the lady Uchiha, and she flipped a few pages, reading over her observations and other research to make sure she had covered all the things she had already spoken to Fugaku and Mikoto about.

During the woman's pause both Fugaku and Mikoto nodded accordingly, Fugaku seeming disinterested with his stern appearance, and his arms folded over his chest, and Mikoto bearing a reserved, but concerned and melancholy aura.

Glancing up at the two, just to make sure she still had their attention, and to be properly respectful, Seiko smiled softly, but carried on in a serious but feminine tone. "..I know this may have little to do with the murders, but it is a serious issue, regardless. After I forced his sharingan into deactivation, the problems lessened, and I could only assume that he was facing a sharingan-born problem, so I dipped into the clan's history and known illnesses concerning sharingan, and while what I discovered was thought to be nonexistent these days, I'm just going to assume that this is all due to fine choices in breeding, as I know one of the duties of clan leaders is to make sure their offspring are bred to the best selection of partners. In any case, this may be a bit drawn out, so bare with me.. But, when the first Uchiha came to be, and the bloodline began, they were regarded as beasts of the battlefield bearing inhuman strength and endurance, with soaring chakra levels, and those eyes that were said could only be harnessed by devils. It was pure perfection in the beginning. However, as the purity of the blood began to dull, many individuals were born with less physical power, and therefore, not enough human strength to keep control over the mental strain such powerful eyes caused, and the lack of control manifested itself in hallucinations, delusions, and a myriad of troubles which eventually drove these members of the clan to an inevitable suicide. Essentially, it is a mirror to schizophrenia, but caused by the heavy power-load of sharingan. These days this problem is a rarity, because the sharingan itself weakened as the individuals with uncontrollable eyes died out, but I've found that Itachi.. Is suffering from this very problem. His eyes are powerful, but they are causing him problems. He may very well grow out of it, but if he does not, there are at least two ways to keep this under control today.."

Once Seiko ended her spill on a hopeful note, and gave pause for response, Fugaku quickly spoke up, his curiosity still well masked by his stoic behavior. His voice was toneless, merely an act of retrieving enlightenment when he posed the obvious question. "And those are?"

The young female Uchiha licked her dry lips before she spoke up, her voice still firm, but uncannily reassuring, making it seem as if she spoke of divine mercy, though as Itachi himself took in her words, he couldn't help but be consumed by dread. "The first would be to completely relieve him of his sharingan. It would be very easy to find eyes to replace his, and then he would no longer be bothered with the symptoms. He would be normal."

"Normal indeed." Fugaku's voice wavered this time, coated with a subtle irritation, which he made perfectly clear.

"That is not an option at all; An Uchiha without sharingan is hardly even an Uchiha. He would be a cripple of an Uchiha, and our firstborn cannot be a cripple. He is the heir to our clan, and if it is superior eyes he possesses, then we certainly would not wish to have such a thing taken from him."

With the air of finality, Fugaku assured Seiko that he would not allow his son's strength to be taken away, no matter what the consequences. While the boy was relieved for the moment, his young therapist had tensed, secretly thinking the head Uchiha to only be selfish. He didn't seem to really care so much about the boy as he did the Uchiha image. That was the only thing this man was preserving.

Seiko returned the slight show of emotion, keeping all pretenses in place; after all, she was only to do her job, not play decision-maker. She still could not help but be offended by the head Uchiha's arrogance, his utter lack of caring for what would truly be best for his son. "If you view it that way, he'll be a cripple regardless. The only other option is to try and restrain his symptoms through medication, though he still may live a life of unconscious terrors." The woman spared a glance in the boy's direction, her masked emotions just like those of a shinobi, which she was not, but.. For a moment Itachi could see that strength in her. Her wondered deeply what she was thinking, and secondly.. He had to pause to consider her words. How -would- his life be if he was to constantly endure things such as he had seen already?

"A true shinobi is without fear, so such terrors should be practically nonexistent. I'm sure that is something Itachi can easily grow out of. The boy has the makings of greatness. This should be nothing to him." The head still spoke with a tone that communicated his all-powerful rein, or at least that over the Uchiha and certainly his son, for now. Seiko's fears had truly been realized- Itachi's fate was in the hands of a man who did not seem to think of him as a human being, and there was nothing she could do about it.

"…I see." Seiko paused, but spoke up finally, beginning with a now hopeless tone, a disappointed, and resigned tone. "Alright, then after Itachi heals, and gets out of this hospital, he will need to have regular sessions with me at my office for as long as the symptoms last. As for the rest of the problems he is still facing, I shall keep working diligently to help him. Good day to you, Uchiha Fugaku, Uchiha Mikoto."

The young Uchiha woman stood, and bowed to the head and lady Uchiha, showing them respect, even if she didn't really have respect for them at all. It was at such a time as this, though, that she was questioning herself. She had promised to help Itachi Uchiha as she had been offended at the boy being wrongly accused for those murders, and now she had become downright protective of him. He was her very first real patient and that meant he was special, but.. She found that he had become almost more to her than what he was. Very quickly she found herself caring for the boy, and if it was a life of constant sessions with her that he was being condemned to, she would do all she could for him.

As the two parents of the injured boy left, without even speaking a word to their son, Seiko found herself filled with regret, whereas Itachi himself was consumed with an almost pleasant sort of numbness. This entire situation had left him without any thoughts on the matters at hand, and Seiko alone dominated the room with her sorrowful glow as she slowly turned to her patient.

Dark, all-encompassing optics lifted to her face, as blank as the boy was silent, and Seiko tread over to him, reaching out to push the dark bangs back from his angelically perfect countenance. "Itachi." She began to speak, her voice now that sensitive little whisper which was meant only for Itachi, and the young Uchiha's attention remained on the woman, awaiting whatever her words would be, and within moments those very words made themselves known. "..What is it that -you- want?"

Of course she meant the decision Fugaku had made, and as far as Itachi was concerned, neither selection was very satisfactory. On one end, his father was right, he would just be a pathetic cripple without his sharingan eyes, unable to continue growing stronger as he so seamlessly had until now. On the other end of the spectrum, he may never rid himself of the nighttime terrors, and worse, they could become even more troublesome over time, even kill him, such as they nearly had already.

In all honesty, however, the boy more feared living a long life as a pathetic handicap than dying after a short, torturous period. He had graduated from the special program in the academy, taught to endure suffering, fear nothing, and cause bloodshed without remorse. He was a shinobi, and being less of an Uchiha was no option. At last he spoke up in a definite tone, reassuring his crestfallen therapist as best as he could.

"The choice my father made will be best for me, in the end."

:: ::

"Are you ready for this, Itachi?" Seiko didn't spare much time after letting Itachi have his breakfast before getting right to work. She pulled up her armchair, the one that was utterly tacky with pink and green patterning, a dent right in the super-cushy seat of it, and she perched next to the boy's mattress, looking ready for anything.

The young male sighed, his eyes wandering from the television to his therapist just beside him, and he realized how reversed this situation seemed. She looked just like a kid with a smile spread across her pale lips, and he looked like some stern adult staring back at her with a blank expression, his morning news-watching interrupted. "What are we doing again?" The young male questioned, though he was mostly clear on what was to happen. He was just trying to find any other little detail to add to his knowledge and distract Seiko in the meantime.

"I'm going to use my own sharingan to delve into your mind, and I'm going to find the events you can't remember and draw them back out, so we can all know what really happened once and for all." Her voice was irritated, but only playfully so, as she knew exactly what the boy was up to, and she was only humoring him as she explained herself once more.

Itachi, however, looked to the side for a moment, then back at the woman after a moment of thought. His own voice was calm, and drained of a child's nature, as always. But today he seemed particularly distant. "What if.. I don't want to remember those things? Maybe there is a reason I forgot them."

The boy, as young as he was, essentially, was correct, and Seiko truly agreed wholeheartedly. She thought it was ridiculous for anybody to assume this boy was capable of those murders, even with his young but powerful eyes, and his unconscious tendencies. The brutality of the scene was far beyond sharingan, or at least she had never seen any sharingan that could literally mutilate bodies in ways only a psychopath could think up. And the mental troubles caused by the overly strong sharingan had never been known as destructive, only self-destructive. Even so, the jounin present should have been able to fend off an eight year old boy.

The only fact that really still stood against Seiko's defense of her patient were the autopsies revealing that the mutilations had not been what killed the jounin and genin, but something previous to that. Also, each of them had some significant brain damage, but no obvious damage to their skulls, which almost suggested the use of sharingan.

The scenario that had been posed was that either Itachi had killed all three and injured himself to secure his innocence, or he had killed his fellow genin with sharingan while out of control, then obtained injuries while fighting the joinin, yet had somehow snared him in sharingan, and killed him as well, and then he mutilated the bodies while still in his unconscious daze before collapsing from his injuries.

Either way, it sounded ridiculous, and Seiko refused to believe Itachi to be so monstrous, even in the case that it was unconscious. To her, it simply was not possible. And because everybody outside accepted such ludicrous as truth, she had taken it upon herself to prove them wrong, and unfortunately that meant Itachi would have to remember it all, no matter how horrific and traumatizing it may be. After all, he was a born shinobi, and Seiko thought maybe it would not hurt him, mentally, to remember.

She breathed a heavy sigh before she gave the younger male her most heartfelt expression, and spoke up softly, her voice laced with utter regret. "Itachi.. The life you were born into is one of brutality, and murder, and constant battle.. You came to be just as the shinobi wars were coming to their end, and I know you've already seen so many terrible things, and that losing this one wouldn't hurt at all.. And while I agree, you probably have forgotten this because it is something your mind simply wishes to forget; without knowing for certain what happened, you are the one responsible for the deaths of your teammates. Let me bring those memories back, Itachi. Let me clear your name."

In final understanding, with no stalling available to him, the young male nodded to his therapist, submitting himself easily, giving Seiko the eye-contact she needed to retrieve the memories. With this show of trust secured, the vibrant red of sharingan bled into the female's dark optics, and she instantly pried into the boy's head, digging as deeply as necessary to find the hidden memories. She sorted through the boy's life events, bypassing it all, drilling, heightening the intensity until she made it to the very bottom of everything; the beginning of a typical day, but the very last day of three shinobi's lives.

She pulled that day from beneath the shrouds, into the front of Itachi's memory, and as she did, it flashed before him, coming back to him. Both of them witnessed the normalcy of everything, up until a single moment of disturbance, and at that point everything seemed to spiral into complete blackness.

Seiko focused as hard as she could, struggling to unlock the blackened memories, getting only momentary flashes of the brutal struggle until she found herself staring into nothing more than a pair of wicked sharingan eyes; But these eyes were different from normal sharingan. She almost recognized them from somewhere, but she didn't recall right off, and she also couldn't think on it too much because her complete concentration was required currently.

This was it- This was the answer to their dilemma! Whoever had really caused the murders had placed some kind of seal on Itachi's memories. Why they had left the boy alive in the first place was questionable, and why they had done this at all was as well, but just as much so was the question of why they had killed the others. Obviously they were insane, but also powerful to boot.

"..Release." The female uttered this one word as she broke the seal on the recollection, but instantly she froze, the memories pouring into her, but also the pain of all those who had died, and Itachi as well; she writhed from it, fearfully crying out, trying to escape what was surely a genjutsu set beneath the seal as an extra security measure. But since she was not a shinobi she was completely unable to break out, though as soon as her cries met Itachi, he realized something had happened to her, and reached out, grasping Seiko by the arm. The obviousness of genjutsu struck him, since not only was he an Uchiha, but he was part of the special ops program in the academy and he had already learned minor defense strategies concerning all three major forms of jutsu. With some slight effort he managed to focus his own chakra enough to disrupt the flow of chakra within her, though the genjutsu was immensely strong, and Seiko was forced to endure it for a moment as Itachi focused to drive her out of it.

At last she was free, but having felt too much, she toppled limply from her chair, her consciousness leaving her due to the strain of genjutsu on her untrained mind and body. Unfortunately, company, which included a handful of doctors, appeared at the heavy door, witnessing Seiko fall to the ground, and seeing only Itachi sitting erect in the bed, staring down at her fallen form with flaring red optics. One doctor rushed to Seiko's side to help her, while another hurried to the side of the bed, drawing a hand back and smacking the young Uchiha across the face with a resounding noise of skin roughly striking skin, which echoed in the room and down the hospital halls. Without an ounce of mercy or a second thought on what had happened, he pushed the boy back down to secure him to the bed with the forgotten restraints. Itachi fiercely stared up at the man, offended, and with red eyes filled with emotionless strength that could almost pass for a typical shinobi bloodlust. That was all it took to send the man reeling back to avoid those glaring eyes, and with nobody else to block his sight, Itachi turned his head, his neck straining as he tried to see Seiko. He wanted to see if she was okay, but he just couldn't make anything out because of the restraints.

He didn't know if anything had been jarred when he was pressed down, but his chest was hurting again, and what was even worse was that Itachi chose to ignore it for now, hiding the pain in order to tug at the cuff attached to one of his wrists. Any sense of calm slipped out of him, his arm ripping back and forth in need of escape, the links rattling furiously, and the doctors each started backing away in fear, not aware of whether Itachi would free himself or not, or what he could do if he did manage to get up from the mattress.

But in some stroke of luck, Seiko picked herself up from the floor just in time, a soft groan slipping out as she rose up to her knees next to the bed, gently shushing the boy to stop his fighting with much haste since she certainly didn't want him to hurt himself. Instantly he stilled, turning to see her next to him, though his bangs were messily hanging across his eyes, obscuring his view, and the kind woman reached up to brush the bothersome strands of raven hair away from his face.

With the hair pushed back, her fingers found their way up to trace a reddened mark across the boy's cheek in the shape of a hand print, and despite her now pounding head, and sore sharingan, she very hastily found her feet, pacing angrily over to the door where the doctor she had seen standing over the bed was positioned. With just as little restraint, she returned the slap across the face, striking the male who had stupidly laid his hands on an innocent patient.

He just stared in surprise as she lowered her normally sweet voice to a dangerous level, sounding a lot like a growling cat, ready to claw somebody's eyes out. "You stupid idiot, how dare you hit him, he didn't do anything!"

"..He didn't do.. anything." She backed away from the doctor, her anger flushing easily from her system as the memories she had drawn out washed over her once again. These memories were of horror, and pain and suffering. They were of Itachi watching his team be murdered like animals right in front of his face, slaughtered and ripped apart. They were of him fighting desperately against a foe he knew deep in his heart that he could not defeat. They were of him fighting so valiantly, so much greater than any shinobi of his age, and yet, they were of him being defeated, of him being mercilessly beaten, of him just waiting for death, since he was so certain he was going to die, and now Seiko knew. She knew everything.

::

...TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

_Everything was a blur. It was a blur of faded green, now seeming like a black shadow against the red of twilight. The sun was dying a gory death on the horizon, bleeding her sorrowful tears to the earth, and it was so appropriate. _

_The ground was stained crimson, splattered, a messy painting composed by a psychotic artist. Bodies laid scattered, and not just simply upon the ground, peacefully gone into death. These bodies were torn to shreds, parts scattered all about, the entire scene so red, so wet and bathed in bloodshed. It reeked. It smelled metallic, and like burning wood and leaves, and like flesh that had already began to wither, exposed to air and insects and scavengers._

_There was noise. Crows. They barked impatient complaints above. The bravest of those black-winged reapers already fluttered to the ground, stealing tatters of flesh that were separated from whoever they belonged to in life. It was sickening._

_And desperate eyes, a gleam of dying red, only today forced into the fiery grasp of active sharingan, stared upward, to the side, slowly looking around but no longer recognizing anything. The young boy coughed, his muscles contorting at every little movement, every pained movement; What was worse was that he couldn't tell if the smoke from the demonic flames was causing his coughing, or the blood that he steadily was choking on._

_A foot; A foot rested upon the young Uchiha's middle, shoving itself into his broken body, but he just winced, letting only the slightest amount of his pain show in the way he exhaled forcefully, feeling that letting the air out of his lungs would relieve some pressure. _

_This was only a slight intermission from the brutality of the moment- For all the gore, and pain that lingered, it still wasn't enough for the very source of this entire massacre. The man, creature, demon, whatever he was.. The one who made this mess with his very hands still remained present, hovering over the fallen heir like a carnivore who would now tear into the boy and start ripping apart the pieces with the young male still breathing all the while._

_Despite his better knowledge, the young Uchiha couldn't help but imagine some long maw, opened with jaws around his neck, hot breath burning against his skin, and acidic saliva dribbling down on him, trailing over his flesh. He couldn't help but imagine a creature like this, taking him by the neck, teeth puncturing the delicate skin, and blood dribbling out as the boy was dragged off. _

_This was how that man's presence felt as he laid his foot back down at the heir's side. Itachi, not wanting to suffocate as he was dragged away to become a feast, found it in himself to get up from the ground. Slowly, he rolled from his back onto his belly, and lifted his upper half, his knees drawing inward. But this inner strength was what drove the psychotic creature onward, bidding he continue, yet Itachi dared not give up._

_The heir was kicked in the side, and he rolled across the ground, blood sputtering up from his lungs and being coughed out to dot the ground a deeper red. The shadow-like man took a few steps to close the gap he had created, and grabbed the child by his hair, and lifted him from the ground, dragging him over to one of the bodies that lay strewn apart._

_Here the man held Itachi in place; Down on his knees, bent forward over a dead body, and all he could do was look. He looked upon that ghastly face, a face he once knew as expressive and intelligent, curious, and attentive, and sometimes frustrated, but still very much like any young shinobi; Full of life, and willing to learn, and happy just to be taking every last sweet breath. It was a former teammate, alive and chattering unknowing, just maybe an hour before, unaware that death would come to claim him in a rather untimely manner._

_His face now seemed twisted in pain and horror, and how unbecoming it was of a future ninja. His expression was as twisted as his limbs. Those tiny arms had been jerked round until the bones snapped, and cut through muscle to be freed from their fleshy container, just to jut out grotesquely. And after forcing this child to endure such a torment, the masked man responsible had stood with one foot grounding the child's lower body, while he grabbed the young boy by his arms, and turned his back around forcefully until it snapped apart, and the young male screamed a horrible, desperate scream that surely tore apart his throat as it erupted._

_Itachi could remember the scream, and how it pierced his own consciousness with a ringing pain, making his eardrums feel as if they might suddenly explode, and leave the heir in a world of silence. That scream was silenced when a sword finally slashed cleanly through the other shinobi's back, and the rest of his skin was ripped apart as his upper body was tossed aside, his entrails like curls of fleshy wires, still clinging to both halves of the dead boy._

_Yes, and his face, gripped in the emotions of his death, reflected that. His lids were wide open, though his eyes had rolled back in his skull, leaving just the very slightest traces of the bottom edge of his iris apparent beneath the dead boy's lids. His mouth hung open, blood dribbled all about his lips and his chin and the red substance remained in the patterns of wrinkles in the boy's countenance, wrinkles that had been there when his face contorted while he was dying. Now those creases had diminished with the loosening of the boy's muscles as they died, but the blood still marked where they had once been._

_After being forced to look down for a few minutes, the heir was snapped from a traumatized sort of crimson stare, which had been focused on a tiny gnat as it crawled upon one of the dead boy's revealed eyes. The Uchiha was keenly made aware of a kunai as an arm wrapped around him, and the blade pressed against his abdomen. The dark man threatened to litter the ground with the Uchiha's innards, just as he had done to the other boy, and he wanted to know what Itachi thought of others finding him left in such a gruesomely pathetic position._

_[And in his memory, Itachi was aware that, despite the threats, this action had not occurred. He had lived, and he knew that. However, in this particular flash of time, the kunai indeed was forcefully pressed down against his skin, just enough to cut away the flesh, and it was dragged across, making a long gash. Blood streamed from the cut, and the heir's lips opened to let out any kind of horrified sound, but nothing came out except silence. Then, the black-clad man behind the boy grabbed his wrists, and stretched them upward, straightening the boy up, and with a sharp kick against his back, his insides suddenly erupted from the hole in his front, and he felt himself convulsing at the sight.]_

_A sickened feeling shot through him, death becoming imminent, so much so that now he welcomed it, just wanting the pain to vanish. He tried to breathe, but could not. He closed his eyes wanting to dissolve from the world, death not coming soon enough, but as the ache slowly become more and more intense, the rest of his forgotten senses rushed through him._

:: ::

**What happened to my son? I don't recognize this person today.**

_Then why don't you start taking the goddamn pills?_

:: ::

The young Uchiha's eyes shot wide open, and flickered wildly to and fro, taking immediately in the first images offered to them. He looked right and left, up and down, finding nothing now but the solid colors of his ceiling, and he panted from the panic washing over him and through his mind. A nervous gulp was taken, his throat feeling tight around a thick lump that resided somewhere in the very middle. His mouth was dry from nervous panting, while his skin was dampened in a cold sweat.

An arm was laid over his eyes as he caught his breath, the terror of his own slumber being pushed to the back of his mind, and left forgotten. Reassurance came with the sun of the morning, a new day for young Uchiha Itachi to face, aware that he had survived the horrid ordeal that haunted his nightmares. The arm against his face was drawn away, wiping his forehead before it flopped at his side, and he glanced toward his window from the bed.

Yes; Morning had finally come to chase away Itachi's fears, and it was apparent in how those first, fresh golden rays peeked through the window, broken up only by a small dogwood that grew near the window, and the little, merry birds that danced and chirped about the branches.

Next, the Uchiha heir peered over to the table beside his bed, the wooden surface well within reach as a now-familiar object waited patiently atop, just to be habitually taken in hand by the Uchiha boy. This small, seemingly innocent object was a thin, brownish-orange bottle, which contained a mass of tiny white pills, the very first thing that started the Uchiha heir's morning.

[The only hope for him being able to keep at least one foot set firmly in sanity. The only hope, for the rest of Itachi's mortal life.]

He sat up in bed, removing the top from the bottle, and he took two tiny, round pills into his hand, letting them delve slightly into the creases of his palm to hide. Dark eyes glared down at those two white dots, hating and resenting them for reasons the boy could not and would not bother to explain.

These chemical cocktails, artificial in creation, and artificial as they flowed through him, made him into an artificial being; It was a wretched, undeniable process. He could see the change in himself- This medicine had chipped away at the person he was. It stole away what tiny flickers of emotion and expression he had left, until nothing but a blank slate remained. He had no idea what his life was meant for anymore. He had no idea what he wanted or needed. He felt nothing.

He was nothing. Each day he had to wake up and face the day as a nothing, or else face an eternity of night in suffering.

Dark eyes glassed over in consideration of his choices. To feel nothing, or to feel fear, and pain. To see reality, or a dark fantasy. To live as nothing or to die as something. He balled one hand in his sheets in exasperation, those two white menaces a stark reflection in the charcoal eyes that looked upon them. Some days Itachi thought he would just prefer to be blind, to have his own feverish eyes ripped out, so he may be left in a peaceful, undisturbed darkness.

But he didn't even have enough drive within himself to welcome such a fate; In the end he tossed back the pills, and bit down on them harshly, crushing them to a powder that bit back with a bitter tang, but raced through him quickly, fading away all the horrors one young boy could imagine.

The bottle was laid aside as the sheets were kicked away, and Itachi pressed naked feet to the cool floor, padding over to his dresser, from which he pulled clean clothes to dress himself in. A black, sleeveless shirt, emblazoned proudly with the crest of his family on the backside, and white shorts that came slightly past his knees. He straightened the blankets that topped his mattress before he threw the garments down, sliding his lithe body from his sleep shirt and pants. He let the soft material slip through his fingers as he laid these upon the bed to be worn later on; He then grabbed up the clothes he had picked out, and quickly put them on.

Sitting down upon the mattress, the young Uchiha reached into the drawer of the table next to his bed, and drew forth a mess of white wrappings for the long day of training he would have ahead of him. He bound pale, slender legs from his ankles to his knees, and his arms from wrists to his elbows, uncertain if his body was even ready to go back to training, having lost a dreadful amount of strength sitting about in that wretched hospital.

[Then again, the beating he had endured had pressed him backward in strength. Some doctors wondered if his battered frame could even endure anymore time on the battlefield. Luckily, he was young. His ability to recover was still fresh.]

::

The quiet Uchiha boy wandered down the hall from his room, leaving his peaceful sanctuary behind him as he took his first step into the kitchen, just to feel the very tense, anxiousness of the air. He lifted a single brow, and glanced about with all-seeing, black eyes. A subtle smile graced his lips when those very eyes were laid upon sweet Sasuke.

Sasuke; this soft, delicate, ball of purity; Itachi wasn't sure exactly why, but ever since Sasuke had come into his life, he had been drawn to the boy. He looked around, still sensing that something was wrong this morning, yet he didn't spot his mother anywhere. There was nobody but sweet Sasuke, perched at the table, just waiting for breakfast, and playing with some toys.

Itachi paid no mind to the lack of mother on the scene, he just made his way over to the table, and sat down on the cushion next to his young sibling.

Instantly, bright, doe-eyes turned joyfully to the new presence in the room, and a grin spread across the tiny child's rosy lips. "Oniisan! Good morning, Nii!

That little boy was always like warm, vibrant sunshine, trapped inside a child's body, or at least he was to Itachi. Their mother might say the boy was a storm of emotion and energy in comparison to Itachi's mild, mellow persona, but Sasuke never raged against the elder Uchiha boy. It was quite the opposite- Sasuke was always content and warm just being next to his sibling.

And truthfully, Itachi felt just the same toward his beloved younger sibling. He had embraced Sasuke the very day after he was born, feeling the warm, fresh, delicate nature of new life, what a new life was like. Sasuke was like a precious, little, delicate thing, so innocently content, so much like morning sunshine. Gentle, soft, needing protection- Itachi loved him so very much, and the fires within himself raged as they never had when he thought of that boy, when he thought of growing stronger to protect Sasuke.

Sasuke suddenly gave Itachi purpose, and even through the horrid event that occurred, and even after spending months of having his mind and personality washed and rinsed with medication, Itachi found that his younger brother could still spark an inferno in his heart.

Sasuke made Itachi from nothing into something, and because of that, suddenly, Itachi became possessive of this feeling, not wanting to ever let it slip away. He guarded this last resource, clinging to it for dear life, feeling life may suddenly vanish without his one and only..

..His Sasuke..

The heir smiled softly to his little sibling, letting his arms wrap around the child gently as Sasuke practically threw himself into the elder's lap. Every time Sasuke laid eyes on his brother, one would think they had been separated for eons. Itachi was unaware of why Sasuke cherished him with such a ferocity, but he would never deny such a perfect thing. Sasuke was his, and he wanted the boy to share these feelings, dreading the day the younger male may grow distant and forget the elder.

No, Itachi could never let that happen.

"Good morning, Sasuke.." Dark eyes watched the tiny boy as Sasuke snuggled himself into Itachi's lap, and Itachi distantly wondered if his Otouto ever pressed himself close enough to the elder's chest that he could hear the way he made Itachi's heart flutter? Was it that steady beating that Sasuke always snuggled himself so close to?

In a soft whisper, Itachi spoke to the younger boy in his grasp. He spoke as if these words were a secret that should never pass between any other but the two of them. "You're the only one Sasuke.."

To this, Sasuke glanced up, not understanding. His eyes were filled with quaint curiosity, a longing to know what the elder was speaking of, because Sasuke longed and thirsted for all things from Itachi. "Hm? Niisan?"

Itachi continued in his soft, secretive voice, tightening his hold on the soft little boy in his arms. His head ducked low so that his cheek rested against the side of the younger male's spikey crown, and Itachi's bangs fell messily to one side as he spoke. "I'll tell you a story I heard.."

These words made Sasuke bounce with excitement, and a tiny hand reached up, little fingers curling into Itachi's raven locks, tugging lightly. "What is it, Nii?"

The heir began his dark tale by keeping his tone hushed, though with each word he steadily raised his voice a bit, to speak over a bubbling pot whose metallic lid rattled noisily in the background. "A long time ago, a fatal bird named Chromaggia met the arrow of an archer while flying. Along the lava coasts for years, thinking it was being chased, it escaped the arrow.."

This story was interrupted by another figure who appeared in a sudden bolt, flying along the edge of the tense air, the cause for all the commotion, certainly. The lady Uchiha, fretting in her own gracefully, silent way as she broke away from whatever had been so important to come and check up on her rice. Upon emerging back into the kitchen, with her hands busied with a mess of small boxes, she let a relieved smile grace her pink lips as round, pure, inky eyes set on her elder son.

"Oh, Itachi, you're up!" A sweet, tender, but shaking voice beamed in merry pretenses to the Uchiha heir, and he quietly turned his attention to his mother, wondering immediately what had happened that was causing her so much stress.

The heir nodded as he pushed his younger sibling back over to his own seat, smiling for Sasuke while he gave attention to his mother. "Yes, Okaasan.."

The worry in the lady Uchiha's voice made itself more apparent, though she gratefully sought aid from her capable son, thinking he seemed apt to help her. "I'm sorry.. Can you help with the breakfast?"

"Yes.." Itachi gave a nod to his mother, and placed his fingers upon the end of the table to aid in lifting himself up. The smaller Uchiha boy grabbed at the hem of the heir's shorts as the older boy moved over toward the stove, and Itachi responded by giving Sasuke a soft pat on the head.

The young Uchiha heir lifted the top from the pot of rice, stirring it quickly, and turning down the heat a bit. Next he took a bowl of beaten eggs that had been left upon the counter by his mother, and poured them into a square pan that was already heated. It made a very welcomed sizzle as the raw, yellow substance met the sting of hot iron, and Sasuke even ventured over behind Itachi to get a glimpse of what was happening. Clearly, the younger male was ready for his breakfast.

With a glance down, and a soft smile, Itachi acknowledged his young brother's presence at his side. "You're hungry, ne, Otouto?"

The tiny boy nodded so furiously that his long bangs flopped about in whisps against his pale forehead, and his rosy cheeks.

A second stare was cast over Itachi's shoulder, noting that Mikoto had vanished from sight again, clearly having trouble hunting something important down. The smile faded slowly from Itachi's face as he spooned a bit of broth from the soup pot over into the frying pan, along with a small bowl of chopped ingredients, and some seasoning, then he rolled the eggs as they cooked.

Sasuke tugged at his sibling's shirt excitedly, impatient as he waited for the food that his older brother was preparing. "Niisan, you didn't finish the story from before.."

"..Oh. That's right.." The young heir concentrated, continuing to aid in finishing up the morning meal. It was simple enough; Once the eggs were rolled, he added the ingredients that the lady Uchiha had prepared earlier to the soup, and another set of things to the rice as it was almost finished. While giving the rice a quick stir, and replacing the lid, he spoke up in a quiet tone to his younger brother. "Chromaggia, Chromaggia, why don't you face the danger? The arrow was attached to its wing and it flew trying to shake it off. Pulling the arrow, others got wounded because of me, because of me.."

As Itachi spoke, Mikoto at last came back into the kitchen, placing a box upon the counter to be dealt with later, and she gratefully thanked her son, and took over the cooking just as it was almost complete. But Itachi did not just step aside so easily. He moved just enough to give his mother space, but he looked at her with empty eyes and an impassive expression. Still, there was an inescapable curiosity within. "Okassan, is something wrong?"

Mikoto did not look at Itachi as he spoke, her tiny hands rushing into the cabinets to retrieve some plates, stress apparent even in her movements. She did give her head a shake, shrugging her hair back from over her shoulder as she did so. "I was just trying to get some things together, and trying to find some things I need for today.."

Scooting Sasuke back off to sit at the table, Itachi remained in the kitchen to help his mother by offering extra hands. His questions persisted, however, obvious in a true yearning to know what was so bothersome to Mikoto so early in the morning. "What is today?"

This question dragged a soft, weary sigh from the lady Uchiha, but she remained absorbed in the task at hand as she fluffed the finished rice and transferred it to bowls, which in turn, were taken to the table by the young heir. "Your father.. He wants me to start Sasuke's tactility training.. Letting him learn how to properly hold kunai and shuriken.."

Swiftly, the heir turned back to his mother, after placing down the bowls of rice. (Which Sasuke dug right into without even being told he could do so.) His voice spoke up with an unusual amount of interest, and offense. "..Already?"

Mikoto practically cringed at Itachi's reaction, her own overprotective anxiety flaring up in reaction to her son's overprotective nature over Sasuke. In the end, all she could do was sigh over it, noting that her happy days of letting Sasuke just be a child were coming to a close, and much too quickly. She shrugged, a sweet but meager voice speaking up. "I'm sure you did yours earlier... Here, Itachi."

The woman turned on heel, and handed bowls of soup to Itachi to be set on the table, then she, herself, brought over the rolled omelettes. The mother and son joined Sasuke at the table for breakfast, Itachi falling silent as he contemplated what he had been informed of. He couldn't help but stare down at his own hands, the web of thin scars printed on each of his fingers, and on his knuckles, even in the palms of his hands- These were all the results of the years he spent learning to perfectly handle edged tools. This made the heir silently glad that his father had already ventured off to handle whatever tasks he had in mind to complete during the day.

The family ate quietly, slowly, but there was a tenseness that had fallen between the lady Uchiha, and her elder son. Finally, Itachi could not take it, and he moved blank, black eyes up to gaze across the table at his mother.

"..Say no.."

Mikoto looked up as Itachi spoke, slowly letting his words filter into her mind, her face blank as she allowed the meaning of what Itachi had said fully embed itself into her thoughts. Say no? To Fugaku? To training Sasuke? Clearly, she wished she could do such a thing, but it was just a child's silly notion to think that anybody could refuse the shinobi life in a shinobi village. The lady Uchiha's attention drifted back down to her breakfast, and she just shook her head to her elder son. "..I can't."

"Why?" The tone of Itachi's voice dropped from completely impassive to a subtly demanding, yet neutral ring, his eyes still blankly staring, pouring the weight of a protective impulse onto his mother's shoulders.

Again, the woman just shook her head in response to her son's words, denying them, as she slowly, politely, ate her breakfast. This time she did not even lift her eyes. "You know why."

There was a pause- Itachi was contemplating whether or not he should openly continue this conversation. He didn't normally antagonize his mother, no, he had a perfectly safe amount of distance from her, and her melancholy silence. But today he thought he might be able to imprint his own feelings on her, and press her to finally speak up for herself. He took a breath, and let his voice be heard again. "..You don't want Sasuke having to go through anything like what I've endured. So protect him."

At the very least, Itachi's mother looked up this time. She gave her older son a bothered expression, though a certain amount of sadness still lingered in her eyes. "That's not how life works."

His eating utensils were held in a tense grasp between his fingers, but Itachi did not hesitate to finally break the way his mother wrote off his suggestions as if they were impossible. "..if you can't protect him.. Then you don't love him."

Mikoto lifted her head, pushing stray raven locks away from her face as wide, offended eyes stared across the table at her son's own cold, sharp optics. She honestly could not believe what Itachi was saying to her, in fact, she hadn't even expected him to be so concerned, and she felt as if she did not know the young boy who was staring at her this morning. But, whoever this obstinate child was, he had pushed the lady Uchiha much too far- He couldn't see the pain that had built up inside her over the years, the struggle she smiled and gracefully endured as her first child was torn away from her from the very start, and made into a warrior without being so much as asked his opinion.

Now, she was facing the same gruesome reality all over again, and it unnerved her more than any person (aside from perhaps another mother) could understand. She placed her utensils down on the table with just a bit more force than necessary, a pinch of aggression making itself apparent in her voice as she gave her son an honest answer. "How can you say such a thing to me? Itachi, what happened to you was unfortunate, and no shinobi, at your age, is expected to go through something like that. ..But Sasuke can't simply live sheltered because something bad happened to you. Nothing is easy, and nothing is simple, so don't act as if it is just as easy as saying no. Until the day that you can change things yourself, don't act as if it is so easy.."

With a sigh, Mikoto lifted the chopsticks back into her hand, and made to continue with her meal, though she further elaborated in a soft tone. "..Especially for me."

Itachi had decided very suddenly that he was finished with breakfast, and he placed his own chopsticks down on the table before gracefully coming to his feet. He had yet to remove his seemingly vacant eyes from his mother, even while she lowered her own gaze, and he said one last thing to close the conversation. "Why not just tell Tousan that he already has one son to carry on the family name, and that dragging Sasuke into this joyless life would be senseless."

Nothing more was said between the family before Itachi excused himself with the best manners he could muster, and continued from the kitchen to the front door, where he slid on his sandals, and left to confront the rest of the troublesome day he had ahead.

::

/..tbc../


	4. Chapter 4

:: ::

Lost within the darkest confines of his own haunted consciousness, the young Uchiha heir felt himself waking from a dream, lifting his head and his heavy eyelids to visually perceive an endless world of soundless, white nothing. Those big, abyssal-black eyes flickered about, curious but confused, wondering when this vortex of blinding white, so much like an insane asylum, ended.

He walked, knowing he could get himself no more lost than he already was, lost in an alien dimension, a dream, so it appeared. He was completely certain that this was actually the dream he would be waking from, despite how he felt as if he had just woken up, woken up to another fantasy. It was terribly inconvenient when one could tell the difference between reality and a dream, but couldn't control the bridge between these two worlds.

In the distance, Itachi at last observed something other than the endless sea of white. It appeared as merely a shapeless, black phantom; At first, all visual information concerning this shadowy figure was indistinguishable, but the young boy slowly came to realize that it was moving closer on foot, traveling from the direction Itachi was heading.

And the closer it walked, the more obvious its form became to the Uchiha's perceptive optics; It was a person- they had arms and legs, and a head with long ebony hair that spiked messily in every direction. Covering their face was a mask that was adorned with flame-like markings that sprawled from one side of the mask to the other, toward the one open eyehole, from which a single crimson eye glared outward.

Itachi didn't realize that he -recognized- this mysterious person's outward covering until he was near enough to reach out and touch the man. It brought the blood-red of Itachi's sharingan flaring up out of instinct, wishing to greet the person who caused their awakening.

"It's.. You... I know you." The eight-year-old boy uttered words of apprehension, of resent, and of the sudden surprise that came with a dreaded recognition, suddenly all-too-aware that this masked man was the person who had killed his former team. (And of knowing this person meant no good in coming face to face with Itachi again.)

The masked man continued forward, coming to stand beside the small Uchiha boy, and leaning down to the child, one gloved hand being firmly rested against Itachi's shoulder, keeping him from flinching away, though Itachi dared not move. The man's other hand raised his mask just slightly, so that his lips were revealed from beneath the obscuring surface, and so the phantom's words would not be muffled as he spoke in a delicate whisper into Itachi's ear.

"_..Every living creature in this world...dies alone."_

::

_28 days, 6 hours, 42 minutes, 12 seconds. That, is when the world... will end. _

::

"How have you been since you left the hospital, Itachi? Have you rested well enough?" Seiko's warm, delicately calm tone came to address her young patient just loudly enough to be heard over the sound of her office door as she slid it shut for privacy. Itachi had just arrived, albeit early, for his check-up session with the woman who had looked after him in the hospital and tenaciously supported him.

The woman's dark, yet lively eyes turned to look over her shoulder at Itachi, who stood upon a rug placed in the middle of the room. The boy was focused on some unimportant point in space, his eyes locked in a daze, not blinking, nor looking away, even when addressed. The young therapist worried herself inwardly over the young Uchiha heir, but akin to a mother with foolish hopes, rather than an analytical doctor, she reassured herself that her patient was perfectly fine. "You can sit down, go ahead."

The small Uchiha boy's mind, as hazy as it was, at last reformed a bit of focus, grasping at the quiet echo of Seiko's voice. He blinked, taking in the scenery before him, finding that he didn't realize how he had come to stand here, or how much time had passed since he left his house this morning. His mind, at times, wandered off of its own accord, and this frightened him, even if he didn't indicate it physically.

As he awakened, his eyes flashed over to Seiko, who was busily opening the honey-colored, wooden blinds over the window to both let in the sun and show off the marvelous view of the garden outside her office. (She had such a fetish for 'good views'.)

Quietly nodding his head, and pretending as if he had been listening all this time, Itachi did as he was asked, and turned toward the quaint couch that was placed against the wall behind him. He observed it's beige cushions, and the light hue of its wooden frame, and inwardly reflected; Seiko didn't just have a thing for 'good views', she had a thing for light colors, open, sunlit areas, and for traditional spaces with her own modernized twist. (Not that he was complaining, but Seiko's office felt like an alien world when compared to his own house.)

He sat down on the end of the couch that was within arms reach of a small end table. Seiko had prepared a fresh pot of tea to share with Itachi during their session, and the pot, along with their teacups, had been intentionally left upon said end table.

Seemingly rushing, not wanting to waste any time, even though Itachi had come early, Seiko took quick but dainty steps over to her desk, which sat toward the back of the room, facing the door. Directly beside the desk, along the wall opposite where the couch sat, were the woman's shelves, cabinets and drawers, all heavily organized to complete perfection, as per her work's requirements. She searched through some of the drawers within reach, probably seeking out Itachi's file, and while he was waiting, the young heir blankly allowed his eyes to scan over Seiko's collection of books and sculptures that lined her shelves. (Everything was so orderly and straight; Maybe Seiko's bloodline had something to do with it as well?)

"Okay, I found what I was looking for.. Sorry, Itachi." She placed the file out on her desk, doing nothing more with it for now as she apologized for having not been ready, though, again, it was no fault of her own. The woman next wheeled over the chair from her desk, with it's muted green cushions that matched precisely with the color of the rug that covered the naked wood floor. (It definitely had something to do with her bloodline.)

"You didn't answer me before.." Sitting down, Seiko poured herself and her patient two small cups of tea, bringing up her question from before while bidding Itachi to finally speak now that he was paying closer attention.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't listening.." Apologizing in a neutral tone that rang with a hint of fatigue, Itachi brought his wandering eyes up to his therapist's face and her warm, motherly expression.

Typically, Seiko gave the appearance of being the most friendly person one could ever encounter, maintaining her politeness and that hint of Uchiha formality, even when she hated your guts; Her adoration for her eight-year old patient was honest, however. This didn't keep her from raising a delicate brow as she sipped her tea and took in the sound of Itachi's voice.

The woman's minute physical reaction was an expression of her noting Itachi's lack of focus, which she came to comment on. "I had asked how you've been since your long hospital stay, and if these last few weeks of freedom have been restful for you.. It doesn't seem like they have, though."

The boy shook his head in a way that would be grim, but he wasn't so expressive. Not even his complaints sounded bitter, just devoid of everything. "I'm still having nightmares.."

"Nightmares do happen naturally.." Seiko reflected, shaking her head to acknowledge Itachi's words as she listened to him carefully. "You were forced to remember a terrible tragedy; Nightmares, unfortunately, should probably be expected for a while, at the very least. More importantly.. You aren't sleepwalking anymore, correct?"

This was a very important topic: the sleeping disorder that had come alongside the premature awakening of Itachi's powerful sharingan eyes. It, and a range of other symptoms, were some of the major causes of death in many Uchiha clan members of the past, their eyes too powerful for their mortal minds to control, leading to something stuck between suicide and accidental death.

The reason that this topic was a great worry was because Itachi had already made many very keenly aware that he embodied this symptom, without question. It was a terrible threat to his health, his unconscious self capable of unreal strength but with no regard for his own physical well-being.

(Seiko could remember in vivid, gruesome detail, coming to check up on Itachi that night in the hospital, only to find the cuffs meant to secure him broken and stained with blood from the inevitable injury caused to his wrists, as well as the IV needles that had been ripped free from beneath the young heir's skin. Then there were the random droplets and trails of blood that marked the fatal path Itachi had taken from the bed over to the window where he had climbed out onto the roof.)

Thankfully for Seiko, Itachi shook his head, denying any recent occurrence of these episodes. His eyes were still vacant all the while, his voice tonelessly answering. "No."

(He was unsure whether the lapses that occurred while he was perfectly awake counted as sleepwalking; He didn't feel like bringing it up, however.)

"You've mentioned to me that you dislike the medication.." The non-shinobi woman spoke, twirling the tea in her cup thoughtfully as she did so, her visage painted with a focused expression which showed her dedication to her patient with crystal clear honesty. "You said it makes you feel...?"

Seiko left her words hanging, a silent blank allowed for Itachi to fill in his answer. He had also been gazing into the liquid depths of his cup, though he had distracted himself with the certainty that he saw words or pictures created in the tea leaves that drifted at the bottom; He was forced to abandon the search, lest he get caught with his mind elsewhere.

"..It makes me feel.. Like nothing.. Like I don't care about anything."

"..Apathetic, then? It's strange that you should say that; You're mother spoke with me recently. She was under the impression that the medication is making you unhappy and.. Aggressive? This doesn't quite coincide with what you've told me, and either could be attributed to the medication, or, in fact, the disorder, itself... I think we'll need to make sure our next session is sooner rather than later; Then maybe we can have an in-depth talk about your feelings?"

Cutting her long string of words off to give her patient time to take it in, and respond accordingly, Seiko found herself bringing her vision up only to observe that Itachi still seemed to be in some sleep-deprived fog, his attention not at all what it normally was. She sighed before biting her lip absent-mindedly, frustrated with herself for allowing her most important patient to fall into such a pitiful state. Clearly, he wasn't in any state of mind to take in her analyses, so she would just keep it to herself, for now.

"Itachi.. Maybe I should prescribe something else to help you sleep, and suggest at least another week of rest before you start back to doing missions?" A warm, concerned tone, devoid of the usual clinical babble, was granted to the young Uchiha from Seiko. As a doctor, she wasn't satisfied with Itachi's progress. And, as a person who cared for the boy, she felt Itachi needed more rest.

There was also this distant concern, clawing at the back of Seiko's mind; the fear that she wasn't doing everything she could to help Itachi, that she might fail him somehow, and leave him in darkness, or worse. This truly bothered her in a way that was emotionally troubling, which reflected itself in her worried expression.

But something in the kind of fondness Seiko showed the heir caused him this unknown feeling that he simply couldn't understand. Sipping his tea, he looked at her for a split second before averting his eyes, not wanting to see the melancholy way she looked at him. (It was like his mother, yet entirely different.) Was this pity that stained her visage as she watched him? Was he still so pathetic that he warranted her charitable affections? The purpose or meaning behind having somebody -care- about him was something that was lost to Itachi, confounding, and sometimes he swore that he didn't really want it. For some reason, it was uncomfortable, even painful, like something that burned at the touch.

Remaining in the comforting clutches of apathy, Itachi shrugged nonchalantly, but he also shook his head. "The medicine is fine, I suppose, but I don't need anymore time off." This conclusion was made by the young Uchiha himself, and not just because his father was irked by the time that was being wasted while Itachi lazed about. Itachi was just bored, really. He needed something to shift his attention to, something to keep his mind from attempting anymore self-analysis, lest he become prey to his own devices.

"I'm fine," the boy assured his doctor. (This was also probably the most overly told lie of the entire human race.)

Softly, full of wary disbelief, Seiko nodded her head. "Alright.."

The young woman decided, for now, that she would let Itachi be. There was plenty of time, she told herself, for her to fix him. Backing off, instead of fretting over Itachi, was best, after all. Healing was a process, as much as she wanted to create an instant cure.

She was all too aware of the emotional attachment she had developed toward the child before her, and this was neither practical, nor professional. It could only serve to hinder their progress, and of course, it wasn't Seiko's place to be Itachi's mother, just his doctor.

(But the harsh reality was.. All too often, doctors failed.)

Seiko found hope in one reassurance; She had been trying her best to help Itachi, doing everything she could, and that included pulling a few strings as his doctor, to have him placed on a new team of her own choice. Firmly believing that her choices would benefit the troubled boy, Seiko decided that she would put the usual smile, so full of sunshine, back on her face.

The young therapist placed her cup aside, speaking sweetly to Itachi as she did so. (She also reached out to a nearby candy-dish, and took a couple of wrapped candies into her hand to be placed into Itachi's own, a gift.) "If you think you can handle getting back to training and missions, then.. We should go and meet your new team."

:: ::

It was a nice day, that much could not be doubted. The sun was warm and vibrant, the sky was dappled with a few stray clouds that soared from one end of the horizon to the other, and a crisp sort of breeze was ghosting through the fresh and sweet-smelling forests about the edges of Konoha's borders.

Itachi was glad to be outside, glad to feel the sun on his back, and the wind softly whispering over his cheeks; It was such a relief after being cooped up for so long. He took a deep breath, just calmly letting it pour back out of him, not a single complaint in mind.

The young heir followed Seiko along a narrow pathway, which was just barely stamped down in the plentiful and hardy grasses that grew alongside the trickle of the Naka river. The two Uchiha wandered quietly, comfortably cool as the path traced just at the edge of a dense forest, offering shade and the music of birds as they merrily chirped, not a care in the world.

(It made Itachi wish, actually, that he could spend more time resting, just, instead, doing it outdoors.)

"We're almost there.." Seiko's gentle voice came to chorus the songbirds, and she looked back at Itachi with a smile, noting that he seemed content. Maybe, she thought, he was just stressed out from so much containment? That seemed to be the case.

The path suddenly curved, moving with the natural growth of the trees, though instead of running parallel with the river, it now sharply aimed itself in the direction of the water that cut through the land, an arched bridge becoming visible beyond the outstretched reach of the plumed foliage.

This bridge, Itachi noticed as he approached, was already occupied by two other people; They appeared to be close to his age, if he had to guess, so he assumed that these were to be his new teammates.

The clearly audible stamping of ninja sandals against the wood of the bridge, and the feel of the vibrations echoing throughout the structure, announced Seiko and Itachi's arrival. They were greeted by two pairs of dark eyes, and as these two other young people turned their heads, Seiko waved to them in a gesture of friendly greeting.

One of them had positioned himself so that he sat on the railing of the bridge, his feet dangling down toward the river, and he only gave the two newly arrived people a casual glance over his shoulder, his face devoid of emotion, aside from a faintly sour expression.

The other person present was standing near the boy who was sitting on the rail, having been engaged in some surely average conversation. He (she?) was leaned forward against the railing, using it for support as he(she?) chattered to relieve the boredom of just standing around, waiting; Though, when he(she?) noticed the others coming along, he(she?) waved back in a relaxed manner.

"Hello Shisui, hello Hotaru." Seiko greeted the two young shinobi once she was within a polite distance to begin conversation. Itachi noticed immediately that Seiko's voice had fallen back into that sweet, but distantly formal tone she used when addressing 'patients'. It had been the voice she spoke in when she first met Itachi, whereas now they were a good bit more familiar.

So, Itachi wondered, did that mean these two were Seiko's patients also? Why?

"Have the two of you been waiting for a long time?" With a polite, smiling face, Seiko addressed the two others, already apologetic in just the assumption that she'd kept these two waiting.

One of the other two young shinobi shrugged in a laid back manner, grinning as if to say 'no big deal', though his(her?) expression was more reserved and less sunny than Seiko's. "This bridge is pretty close to our house, so we got here early."

"I see." The therapist nodded her head, accepting the reassurance of the young shinobi before her, then she went politely about performing introductions. (Itachi had already noticed that both of these kids had an Uchiha crest on their back, though.)

"Hotaru," Seiko began, continuing to focus on the shinobi that she had already been speaking to, "This is Itachi. He'll be your new teammate." She placed her hand on the young heir's back, pushing him a bit closer to the other genin. "Itachi, this is Hotaru."

A polite bow of the head was granted from the distinctly formal eight-year-old Uchiha, even though he noticed that the other genin did not return it, which left Itachi staring in a manner that was, perhaps, more cold than usual. Even worse, Itachi couldn't make a decent assumption as to whether or not 'Hotaru' was a boy or a girl based on his/her name, and having Seiko do the introductions didn't really indicate it, either. So now he was left in an awkward position that could end in embarrassment.

To make the situation even more awkward, the gender-neutral genin next took a couple of steps closer to Itachi, coming in to closely scrutinize the young heir's face, namely his eyes. Itachi blinked as the other person's gaze met his own with momentary intensity, the young shinobi's eyes flickering back and forth between his two charcoal optics, analyzing their appearance for no apparent reason.

Finally, Hotaru withdrew from the agonizing closeness, leaving Itachi surely grimacing from the invasion. The torment did not end with this, however, and this 'Hotaru' next extended his/her hand to Itachi, at which the Uchiha heir simply stared for a moment, baffled. He was somewhat aware of the meaning, knowing that it was customary in some other places to clasp the hand of somebody you newly meet, though it wasn't exactly a local custom. This led him to a conclusion that he thought was incredibly obvious at this point, but he still made note of it in his mind; Hotaru was weird.

Still, dreading the embarrassment that might come with being taken as impolite, Itachi slipped his hand into the grasp of the other, observing that while Hotaru was taller, their two hands were similar in size. (Though, Hotaru's grip was also uncomfortably firm.)

Itachi was still incredibly frustrated, unaware of whether Hotaru was male or female and therefore how to address him/her.. Though, he was leaning toward male.

"Hotaru is Shisui's younger sister, and had been the youngest member of the team," Seiko began to explain as the two got acquainted,"The teammate that you're replacing was Shisui's age, and Hotaru was allowed on the team because she naturally works well with her brother, and is only younger by a year. Now, Itachi, you'll be the youngest member of the team, since you're a year younger than Hotaru. I think you will be perfect on their team, however, because you were part of the elite academy classes, and you're ahead of your age group."

Listening carefully to Seiko's words, there was one thing that Itachi was mentally trying to wrap his mind around; Okay, Hotaru _was_, actually, a girl. It wasn't incredibly obvious, though, because the girl was wearing boyish clothes, most likely her brother's hand-me-downs, and her wavy, black hair was cut rather short, just above her shoulders, and tied into a stubby ponytail. Also, her bangs were messy, and unkept, just pinned out of her face with no particular care for how it looked.

"I know you're older than Itachi, Hotaru, but please be kind to him. You won't pick on him, will you?" The woman questioned the quiet, young kunoichi, giggling jokingly as she did so, which managed to tug a smile out of Hotaru as she turned to look up at Seiko.

"Nahh," Hotaru waved her hand in a laid back, friendly manner, brushing off Seiko's teasing, "It's alright, I like him."

Hotaru's jet black eyes darted back over to look at Itachi, and she offered the same relaxed smile that she seemed to give everybody. The youngest Uchiha remained physically apathetic, though he could feel one of his brows twitch, wishing to raise itself into an unimpressed kind of expression; He had no clue how this other genin could know that she 'liked Itachi', when she had just met him, and he hadn't even so much as spoken with her.

Itachi didn't care; He just assumed she was the sort that gave everybody a chance, which was just fine. (That, and he was concentrating harder on the headband that the girl was wearing. It wasn't a Konoha head-protector, but it was the same size, bearing no defining markings, save for a purple stone centered upon the girl's forehead. What was that all about?)

"Now-" Seiko interrupted the young heir's thoughts, suddenly placing her hand against his back again, and once more shoving him gently in the direction of who she wanted to introduce him to, it being the other boy this time.

"Itachi, this is Hotaru's older brother, Shisui, who is two years older than you," she obviously wanted to say more about this Shisui-person, but she paused long enough to also introduce Itachi. "Shisui, this is Itachi, your new teammate. Please be kind to him."

Again, Itachi lowered his head politely as he was introduced, which, thankfully, was returned this time, even though the boy, Shisui, didn't put much effort into it, only looking at Itachi over his shoulder as if he couldn't care less. It didn't allow Itachi to get a good look at his new partner, either, though he could already see that Shisui had curly hair, the same as his sister, and large, dark eyes.

"Even though Hotaru and Shisui are of the Uchiha Clan, I'm certain that you've never met before, have you?" Looking down at Itachi, Seiko questioned him, looking very unsure of herself, despite her words. Itachi just shook his head to her, immediately clarifying.

"Of course not.." The Uchiha woman struck a tone that was unimpressed, yet not very surprised either. She was inwardly reflecting on the fact that Itachi's father seemed to keep his eldest son in this bubble of superiority, allowing Itachi to believe that he was the -only- prodigy of the Uchiha Clan, which would explain why he had never met his close cousins previous to today.

"Anyway..," Seiko continued, "I had you placed on this team, with Shisui, because he is also a 'special case', just like you. He awakened his sharingan at an age much younger than normal, and like you, it has also caused him some trouble."

"Hey.." The boyish looking kunoichi interrupted, giving Seiko an offended look, and crossing her arms; The Uchiha woman just chuckled, mentioning that, 'Yes, Hotaru awakened her sharingan at the same age as her brother.'

(Someone was a little starved for recognition..)

"But, what I was going to tell you, Itachi, is that Shisui also has a rare, unique power that he awakened along with his sharingan. It is referred to as 'mind control', though it is better explained as 'subliminal mental suggestion'; Shisui isn't exactly capable of holding others in an unbreakable state of control, but his eyes can reflect his desires, or 'commands' into the minds of others, upon eye contact. Then, whoever he places these 'commands' into, will carry out his wishes, unaware that they didn't decide to do so for themselves." The woman, as she took a breath, looked over at Shisui, whom she was referring to, shaking her head at him as he paid absolutely zero attention.

"..But, Shisui does tend to lose control of this power, or rather, he uses it unconsciously from time to time, causing people around him to do things that they shouldn't, and it has been running amok in his life.." Seiko paused, finally deciding to request that Shisui pay attention.

"..Shisui," Seiko addressed the eldest genin, "Itachi's sharingan has proven to be extremely powerful, and it causes him to lose his 'focus', so to speak. I thought it perfect that the two of you be put together, because you could use your ability to help Itachi maintain his focus, and it would also offer you practice controlling your own mind control ability."

"..if it isn't Seiko-chan.." A male voice interrupted the conversation at hand, to which Itachi turned around in order to locate the source of this voice. He found that it had come from a man who was now standing at the edge of the bridge, from where Seiko and Itachi had originally come from. He wore a red shirt with a high, wide collar, and baggy sleeves that came to his elbows in length, then loosely fitted black pants that were tied off with shinobi binding below his knee. (Definitely another Uchiha, or so his attire seemed to indicate this.)

As the man sauntered over, Itachi observed that the man's hair was long and black, however unkept; The heir came to this conclusion after noticing that the man's bangs were trimmed shorter over his left eye, hanging in choppy wisps, while his hair fell in long, uneven tendrils about the right side of his face. And, with just as little care, the rest of the older male's hair was tied at the back of his head.

Before anything else, this man walked up to Seiko, who he had addressed. (And with a lot of familiarity, too. What was up with that?) He stood near her, relaxed, tucking the longer side of his bangs behind his ear to reveal that he not only had scars from edged weapons on the right side of his chin and cheek, but his right eye was a discolored blueish-gray, with only the slightest fragment of black lingering within, bleeding into the dot of his pupil.

Itachi noted, also, that the man's cheeks and chin were rough with unshaven stubble; He dressed like an Uchiha, but he certainly didn't maintain himself like one.

"Takeo-san.." Seiko addressed the man standing before her, her voice reflecting some degree of awkwardness. Her discomfort caused Itachi's usual mask to be tainted with a slight grimace, a strange protective instinct coming over him, though he ignored it, staying still where he stood.

"As cold as ever.." The man shook his head in response to the woman's more formal attitude, obviously disappointed, though for reasons Itachi didn't quite understand. (He was wondering in what strange world anybody would use the word 'cold' to describe Seiko. Then again.. She seemed to always be a bit more frigid toward other adults, namely men.)

Seiko cleared her throat, deciding that now was a good time to leave Itachi in the hands of the one who would be his new sensei; Itachi was yet unaware of this, however, which was why the Uchiha woman gestured to the boy next to her, drawing the man's attention to him.

"Takeo-san, this is Itachi, and he will be joining your team. Please be kind to him," Seiko paused, turning to look down at the eight-year-old Uchiha. "Itachi, this is Takeo-sensei."

'Sensei?', was Itachi's first thought. He further observed that, 'He looked like he had just rolled out of bed', though the heir said nothing of this. Instead, he politely bowed to the older man, who nodded to him in return.

"I introduced Itachi to Shisui and Hotaru." Seiko spoke, her tone entirely formal. "I'll leave the task of getting them all acquainted to you, Takeo-san." The woman offered a slight bow of her head to the man, before she turned to leave.

As the soft sound of Seiko's shoes clicking off into the distance dulled away, it left the newly formed team of genin and the supposed sensei in a state of awkward silence. The man's mismatched eyes looked over at his two seasoned pupils, observing that they seemed to stick together, wary of accepting strangers, preferring the closeness of their tight sibling bond, then he shifted his stare down at Itachi, who looked back up at him with unreadable reserve, despite his young age.

The silence finally drew a frustrated sigh from the jounin, and his rough voice spoke in a stern, but withdrawn sort of tone that demanded the attention of all three genin. "Shisui, Hotaru, I know that the two of you are probably ready to get back to training, but I think it is best that you get more acquainted with Itachi before we proceed. He's from an entirely different age group than both of you, so he's surely unfamiliar to you."

The man paused, though he added another detail in a softer tone, "..And it's possible that he is somewhat behind the two of you. I need to ascertain that for myself.. Maybe we should go out for lunch, and hold training off until tomorrow?"

Immediately, the eight-year-old boy felt himself displaced among this new team, and offended at the suggestion that he was inferior to them, in any way. He was younger, yes, but he had also been put through the elite academy course, and.. After the stir the death of his former team caused, was there anybody in Konoha existence that was unaware that he was the sole survivor of the attack?

And, like most children, Itachi could not help but long for what was familiar to him when faced with a situation that was daunting in its newness; His old team, his old sensei, the close understanding between them that borderlined clinical accuracy... Yet it was all lost to him, and for the first time since recovering his memory of their deaths, he truly felt the emptiness that came with losing something important.

"..I think.." Itachi's small, emotionless voice spoke up. "..This team seems flawed."

"Oh?" The man answered, his voice curious, yet still withdrawn. "Why is that?"

Speaking for the first time since Itachi and Seiko approached, Shisui could be heard uttering words under his breath, though not loudly enough for anybody but Hotaru to understand. His comment had been, 'Because we have an eight-year-old on the team,' though Hotaru quickly swatted her brother in the arm.

"Because.." Itachi began to explain, "..this team consists entirely of Uchiha members." The young heir looked over at the other two genin, then back to the new sensei, continuing, "Down to the teacher..."

"..whereas a team should consist of members with a wide variety of skills and fighting tactics." The youngest Uchiha finished.

Remarkably, the boy noticed the slightest upturned corner of the older man's lips, though his new sensei still shook his head in denial of what Itachi had said, offering his own take on the matter. "Uchiha is a superior and formidable bloodline, boasting some of the highest chakra levels, -and- versatility of technique between members, along with our sharingan.. But, of course these teams are only formed for the sake of training, and you will all, later on, be assembled with various shinobi of Konoha for missions. For now, it is for your benefit that the team is structured this way, with me as your teacher. Only an Uchiha can understand the unique traits of our family, and therefore train you properly, after all.."

"..You're the son of the head family.." Shisui piped up again, his sensei's words offering him the confidence to finally speak his mind. "..but you doubt your own bloodline?" The eldest genin heaved a frustrated sigh, before redirecting his words to his sensei. "Takeo-sensei, this kid doesn't belong with us.."

Again, an awkward silence consumed the newly formed team, until the youngest member present decided to speak up once more, in finality. "I'm sorry.. My appetite hasn't been very normal lately.. I'll have to decline the invitation to lunch."

Itachi, once again, politely bowed to all present, and turned to walk away, more than ready to be done with this meeting.

"Uchiha Itachi.." The sensei spoke up, his tone firm, as if he was addressing a spoiled, stubborn child. (Which he was.) "It's not beneficial to skip introductory meetings. Being thrust into training alongside shinobi you aren't familiar with is a taxing situation."

-Stamp-; This was the sound of Itachi's foot hitting the wood of the bridge beneath his shoes as he halted with one slightly heavy footstep. At this moment, his feelings toward this team were indescribable, but he was secluded within himself, immersed in some greater sense of things, and he doubted that those other kids really understood, and the sensei didn't even seem to care.

What Itachi would describe as a 'taxing situation' was being thrust into a fight against another shinobi who was leaps and bounds more powerful than you, and who was fighting you with the intent to kill or cause immense, dreadful injury. A taxing situation was watching all of your teammates and your sensei be brutally murdered. A taxing situation was peering out over the endless fields beyond Konoha's forests and seeing the grass painted a foul, reeking crimson as far as one could see. Those were taxing situations, and as far as he knew, Itachi had survived thus far.

..But these people were still 'playing ninja', just like all kids of Konoha did before entering the academy, before discovering what 'death' and 'danger' was like, before it was too late to turn back.

The heir wanted to say, 'teammates aren't meant to be friends, they are merely meant to understand one another in combat situations, and work together as a unit.' This was what he had been taught, up until now.

"I think I can handle it," was Itachi's answer, before he continued away.

Still standing near the railing of the bridge, at her brother's side, Hotaru once again swatted Shisui in the arm, declaring in a spiteful voice that, "Oniisan is such a dick," before taking off after Itachi.

With a short bound, Hotaru came to walk at the young Uchiha heir's side, smiling the same laid-back smile, trying to smooth things over. "Hey.. Itachi-kun?"

Cringing at the familiarity of the title the older kunoichi used, the younger shinobi did his best to conceal his annoyance, turning the withdrawn, black voids that were his eyes in Hotaru's direction, not slowing his pace. (He wouldn't submit to any attempts she would most likely make to quick-glue the team together. He was already uncomfortable in how she tried to force a false sense of closeness.)

"Yeah.." Hotaru spoke up awkwardly, seeing that she had Itachi's attention, even as he said nothing to her in return. "..I just wanted to say, don't mind my Oniisan.."

The boyish, young genin paused, seeming as if she were waiting for Itachi to respond, or perhaps she was unsure of whether she should say anymore. Regardless of the reason, she decidedly continued, "He's just upset, that's why he's acting so cold- He isn't normally like this. It's just that..we recently lost a teammate, and Oniisan was very close to him, so.. It's like he's bitter about somebody coming to 'replace' the friend we lost by filling the empty spot on the team.. That's why he is trying to disallow you from becoming our teammate right now.."

"I understand perfectly." Itachi's soft, neutral voice spoke up, accepting Hotaru's explanation. "His attitude isn't unreasonable, so don't assume that I feel any resent toward him.. But I'm in a similar situation, so it's likely that we both need some space to start with."

"Oh.. Oh, that's right.." Hotaru's voice was tinged with surprise, a sudden epiphany coming over her, causing her to inwardly scold herself for being so foolish. "You're the boy from that team that got-.. Well, you lost your entire team, anyway.."

Silence; Itachi said nothing, though Hotaru waited for him to do so. She eventually spoke up again, not wanting to end the conversation in an uncomfortable manner.

"So..I'm sure you really do understand my Oniisan perfectly, don't you?"

With a detached voice that could easily be mistakenly heard as if it were touched with bitterness, Itachi answered simply with, "I do."

"..Well, hey.." Hotaru tried, desperately, to be as friendly as possible. "I'll talk to him, alright? Maybe next time we meet up, things won't be so strained.."

Again, there was a silence that came with Itachi's lack of reply. And again, Hotaru filled in words where the younger shinobi chose silence. "..or maybe _we_ can hang out and get to know each other? You and me.."

"I'm sorry.." Shaking his head, Itachi verbally explained away how he rapidly declined Hotaru's offer. "..but I have things to do."

"..Oh, okay.." Hotaru slowed her pace to a stop, no longer trekking at her younger teammate's side. She called out to him as he continued to walk. "See you later then, Itachi-kun!"

:: ::

It calmed his nerves, truly, it did. It wasn't that it was pleasant or that it made him think nice thoughts, but.. It was familiar. This kind of familiarity eased his mind into a calm state of focus.

Training; It wasn't actually training, because the young Uchiha wasn't learning anything new. He was simply brushing up on old skills, seeing if his body still fell into that perfect rhythm that always made the boy reach his goals so flawlessly. Somehow, he was almost afraid that his physique would never be the same, after the injuries he had sustained, and that he would become an invalid.

Actually, considering it, the thought of being granted some mysterious tick that handicapped him as a shinobi forever gave the young boy a grin of bitter satisfaction; How he would love to see the look on his father's face.

The momentary joy of the sarcastic thought lasted very shortly, however, Itachi reminding himself of exactly what would happen, should he not become the perfect shinobi that his family desired. That burden would pass to Sasuke.

Gritting his teeth, the young boy attempted to rinse away the undesirable thoughts from his mind, focusing his sharp, ebony eyes as he slowly allowed them to bleed into a fiery, uncontrollable crimson.

It still burned, he found, whenever he used the newly acquired weapon, but Seiko had insisted that he make the greatest attempts to train his new eyes, to bend them to his will, instead of letting them bend his mind to their power.

Adjusting to the sharingan, especially since it had all at once been fully activated (rather than one level at a time), was a difficult matter, just as much as it was impossible to explain to non-Uchiha.

Though it was only an enhancement of the eyes, somehow, it felt to improve, or at least affect, all of the other senses. In the dim, dismal old training facility that Itachi had secluded himself in, in order to avoid disturbance, he felt that just by activating his sharingan, he could -hear- better than usual.

He could hear the rats scratching about inside the ceiling; The ceiling in question stretched high above the spacious building, making it seem that the vibrations of sound would be lost in the open air, yet Itachi could hear them, he could -see- the sound. Just the same, he could see the concentration of scents, like clouds, drifting about in a breeze, or lingering in stale, unmoving space.

Itachi could see.. Things he could not explain. He could perceive the past, the future. His eyes delved so deeply into the tiniest details of every single object, or place; he could read far enough into things to replay events long past in his mind, in perfect detail. It was haunting, like seeing ghosts, and often times, the young male saw things he truly wished he could turn away from. (This is why he was careful to never walk into his parent's bedroom.)

Light and dark was just as much a complicated matter to explain; Darkness and light were still very clearly different to look upon with sharingan eyes, yet darkness was strangely sharp. Details of objects were etched in grays and silvers, the light playing on surfaces, as if they were mirrors. Itachi could recall having risen early one morning while he was still in the hospital, during the darkest hours before sunrise, only to spend an unholy amount of time in silent wonder just staring at a spider outside the window. (This was before he was moved into the windowless room.)

At first, his eyes had been reliant on the spider's movements, it's vibrations, it's internal mechanisms pulsing, the warmth exuded from the arachnids tiny, frail body; All of these things seemed to glow from inside the small creature, shining off of it, like a light. But, after adjusting to absorb the smallest traces of moonlight, the young heir began to see the spider in an entirely different way, which was just as amazing. He found that he could see every single hair, the bands of coloration that marked the small arachnid, even the silvery threads of the creature's intricate web and the glassy beads of dew that had collected about the threads in the early morning.

And that was just the act of staring at a spider outside a window; Turning something so powerful loose in the world, for the human who wielded this power, could be damaging, dangerous. This big, empty building, though, was perfect for this sort of exercise.

The room was large, and open, yes, but the walls had been tediously lined with mirrored panels for young shinobi to observe themselves, and scrutinize the method of their movements after lengthy analyses; Usually, they came to no particular conclusion. Itachi, however, found that if he stood near a corner, just by catching a few slight glimpses of himself as he moved about, he could piece all of the visual information together, like a movie, where he was watching himself, almost as if he had a double of himself standing nearby. (It was incredibly helpful.)

But that was only for himself, whenever he decided he wanted to alter his own movement, when he wanted to learn how to move in a different way. It further exercised his sharingan, yes, but the real training that he was pushing on himself today also involved making his body respond to what his eyes told him. (Seeing if he -could-respond to everything his eyes were telling him.)

This training involved tossing a handful of kunai into the air, watching them descend, and dodging them, only to add more and more, until dodging the sharpened blades without moving out of range was no longer possible. Itachi, presently, had lost count of how many kunai he was tossing, though he did realize that it took both hands to hold them all.

He prepared himself, moving fluidly into a graceful stance, giving his arms the area they needed to flick the blades upward so they would come back down straight, rather than flying off in another direction.

The small blades were allowed to soar upward at a high velocity as they were tossed, their sharpened edges slicing through the air, ringing at a distinct pitch, the sound quick at first, then slowing as they turned downward in midair, and headed back in the direction of the one who had thrown them.

Crimson optics beamed upward, analyzing the position of the blades as they toppled, perceiving with accuracy their position in the air, the speed in which they sought to return to their wielder; they were now a threat to him, should he move incorrectly.

The young heir's body arced and spun, moving with perfect grace, as if it were as natural as breathing, as if he, himself, were made of water, his flickering eyes absorbing masses of information, much greater than anything any average human could take in at such a rate. He could see the blades as they fell, the image of his body in the mirrors, even without looking directly at them, and for a split second, he could see a person standing in the mirror that was somebody other than himself.

This overwhelming and sudden surprise caused young Itachi to double-take, just to be sure of what he had saw, and as his perceptive eyes turned back to the one haunted panel of mirror, he caught sight of a dark figure within, gazing at him with luminous eyes.

Obviously this was completely unexpected, and it took Itachi's attention away from his training for just one treacherous instant; Normally he would have counted the kunai as they hit the ground, but right now that act did him no good, because he had forgotten how many he was using. It was only when he accidentally moved his ankle into the path of one of the edged weapons that he came back to his senses, taking in the visual of how many kunai were left hurtling toward him, and he moved out of their trajectory with ease.

Falling to his knees after dodging the last of the blades, the young Uchiha's eyes instantly shot up to the mirror, thinking surely, -surely-, he had _not_ seen somebody standing within. (No, he knew he hadn't seen anybody. This was just a trick of his eyes, their overwhelming strain on his fragile mind bending the matrix of his consciousness, and forcing him to succumb to an altered sort of reality, a fantasy, just a fantasy.)

But, fantasy or otherwise, there stood a dark creature just beneath the silvery surface of the mirror. His body was concealed in the old fashioned robes, a dim reddish color, laced with trim that had black feathers sewn in, like designs. Atop his fancy, flowing robes were heavy, iron-silver plates of vastly etched and decorated armor, covering him as if he were some god of wartime, some demon of the battlefield. Concealing the creature's humanoid face was a mask that was dark in hue, which looked as though it were made of hardened, painted leather materials and bits of polished bone. It was shaped like a jagged, exaggerated skull that belonged to some sort of bird, most likely a black bird, given that this person wore a hood of ebony feathers over their head that stretched down the back of their neck. The only real area of visible skin was the pale flesh of the creature's chin that showed from just beneath the beak of the bird-like mask.

(Was this thing some sort of legendary creature of a foul, violent nature? Like a tenguu? What was it, what the hell was it?)

A small, toneless but cautious voice came in an uncertain whisper, the heir's eyes entranced by the glimmer of what seemed like golden stones beneath the eyeholes of the mask. "..Who are you?"

The creature took a long, raspy breath, it's throat seeming taut and gritty, like the course vocal chords of a raven, though as it spoke, it's words rang with dual voices, one deep and masculine, while the other was softly feminine. "To you.. I am many things, Uchiha Itachi.."

Hesitating for a nervous second, young Itachi watched the unmoving creature as it stood just beyond the surface of the mirror, then he broke the silence in questioning. "What do you want with me..?"

The round, golden orbs, buried in the dark shade of the mask, blinked in a flicker, watchfully remaining set upon the young boy, gazing as though the creature could devour the child, yet with something more akin to the sort of fondness one might show to something so delectable that it should be savored, slowly.

Then, once more the eerie sound of the creature's dual voices allowed itself to be heard. "..I've come to warn you, to guide you, and for now, to protect you...Come here to me, Itachi."

With the soft, delicate rustle of the creature's sleeve shifting back, it lifted its hand, pushing it's palm and fingertips against the glass surface of the mirror, touching what seemed like a barrier, causing it to ripple like water, instead of anything solid.

Itachi would admit, he was frightened, even while his highly logical mind told him limitlessly that this was a dream, a hallucination. But the child did not allow himself to show an ounce of fear as he took back to his feet, slowly approaching the mirror, studying the rippled curves in what should have been a hard, flat sheet of glass. "How..", The young boy spoke up, "..are you doing that?"

"I have limitless powers.. I am a tool, sent to make sure that you take the right path, and redirect the flow of the universe to a greater realm of perspective, which will enlighten the entirety of the human race.. The powers that I have, are ones that you may come to possess... For you can do anything you wish, because of your importance. Do you understand?"

Slowly, Itachi shook his head, completely uncertain of what this masked apparition was trying to explain to him. As he lifted his hand to touch the glass, feeling it lap at his palm, just like a disrupted body of water, the boy confessed to his confusion. "..I don't. I don't understand.."

"There is still time," the creature began, his own dual voice having quieted into a secretive whisper. "There is time for you to be made to understand, but that will come later.."

Suddenly, the creature's eyes darted away, its attention captured by an unwelcome distraction. "..I will educate you further, later... Right now, somebody is watching you.."

In a flutter of black feathers, the creature beneath the mirror disintegrated into nothing, his body melting into the shadows within the reflective image of the mirror. This sudden disappearance left the young boy grasping at the mirror's cool, dark surface, trying to pull the creature back into his visible spectrum, not wanting to be left in confusion. (What was that thing trying to tell him? Why did it have to vanish, why wouldn't it come back?)

Itachi's eyes, which had faded back down into his normal obsidian, wildly searched the mirror for any sign of the creature, his instinct telling him to call for the thing, though he hadn't a clue what to call such a strange phantom. He was offered some shred of joy in thinking that the thing had responded to his silent summons, when a set of golden eyes reappeared in the mirror's image.

These eyes, a blazing yellow-gold, grew ever nearer, hidden in the deepest of shadows, which Itachi tried his best to make out, in order to quell his doubts that perhaps this was not the same creature as from before, because its silhouette looked strangely different. And then, all of a sudden, there was the surprising weight of somebody's hand pressed to the boy's shoulder.

Itachi spun round to confront whoever it was that had snuck up behind him, finding his back pressed against the mirror as he gazed up at a taller man who's ghastly face was of the deepest, sickly pallor. It was like looking into the face of a corpse that had newly crawled from the grave, and Itachi rapidly averted his eyes.

(He was no longer frightened, aside from the momentary surprise; He did know of this person, yet he couldn't say that it was pleasant being so sneakily approached by him in a dark room.)

The hand on the young heir's shoulder, without removing the contact for even a second, slithered over his neck in order for the man to tuck cold, pale fingers beneath the Uchiha's chin, which was lifted, forcing Itachi ever-so-gently, to look back up.

And look back up Itachi did, his big, black, doe-like eyes meeting the man's serpentine gaze, daringly refusing now to look away from the glinting yellow, and those slitted, reptilian pupils. This unabashed eye contact must have been somehow delectable to the older man, as it brought a wide smirk crawling across his colorless lips.

"What ever are you doing training here in the dark, child?" The man questioned the boy in a sweetly concerned voice, his words softly alluring, whereas most male shinobi of Konoha struck such hard, stern, masculine tones. It wasn't relaxing in the slightest, however, just..strange.

"I can..", Itachi paused, swallowing the lump in his throat,"..see remarkably well in the dark."

The man lifted a hand to his lips, softly chuckling beneath pale fingers, though he never looked away from the child in his reach. "I see.. Is that so?"

Moving his hand away from Itachi's chin, but in a way that allowed the older man's smooth fingertips to trace along the boy's cheek, he shifted the placement of his appendage, only to bring it to the top of the boy's head, patting him as if he were some cutely foolish little boy.

"How is it, then, that you've injured yourself?" Again, the odd man's voice poured out like sleek silk, laced with sugary worry, like a mother fussing over her child, despite that this person was obviously not female. The man's way of speaking was so difficult for Itachi to comprehend that he almost forgot to acknowledge the actual question being posed.

In fact, Itachi almost was unaware of what injury the man was speaking of, and it took him a moment to recall that he had cut his ankle. "Oh..", he uttered as he glanced down, finally seeing that the clean slice upon the delicate skin of his ankle had been weeping crimson all this time, creating a stain in the fabric of Itachi's sandal. "I was..distracted."

"Yes, of course..", came the mysterious man's answer, his sweet voice reflecting belief in what he was told. As he crouched down lower, coming to Itachi's level, the young Uchiha couldn't help but find the pale man's twinkling, yellow eyes and twisted grin entirely suspicious.

And just as much, those snake-like eyes came to glare knowingly into Itachi's inky optics, reflecting an equal amount of suspicion. "..You were speaking to someone, or so I heard."

Pale, pinkish lips opened to allow the young Uchiha's voice to be heard, but despite his wishing to explain the talking away, he couldn't just say that he was speaking to a fantasy apparition that he had imagined. As well, there weren't any very sufficient lies to be given, especially since Itachi had no idea how long this man had been watching or how carefully he had listened. (Itachi couldn't even recall what all he had been saying, in the tension of the moment.) So.. He let his lips seal themselves and said nothing.

With careful, gentle hands, the strange man unwrapped the torn, tainted binding from around Itachi's ankle, and he examined the straight, clean slice in the thin area of flesh, noting that it wasn't terribly deep.

His smile widened, creating some oddly satisfied expression, as if his worries had been quieted with relief. The pale man coaxed young Itachi into lifting his leg up just a bit, the boy balancing easily enough on one foot with the wall bracing him, and the child watched with uncertain emotions as the man's tongue trailed out to lap the blood from the cut, the slimy appendage eliciting a surprised intake of air from the child as he noticed how abnormally long it was.

Quietly, the man drew fresh bandages from a pouch at his hip, and he wrapped the cut with great ease and care, covering the pristine, gauzy wrapping so that it remained in place, with the binding that had been previously wound around Itachi's leg.

Finishing, the man stood back up, offering one last smile to the boy before he spoke to him once more. "Well then.. Be sure to pay better attention next time."

Itachi nodded his head, bowing respectfully to the odd, pale man before he walked away, answering in a neutral tone. "I will, thank you."

:: ::

..tbc..

::

_As a reminder, please be sure to visit the voting poll at the top of my profile. Your votes will decide which fanfiction I update most often, and I recently reset the poll, so now everybody may recast their votes. =)_


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